


infinity on high  [ star wars ]

by fiveisarat



Series: a sky full of stars (i'm gonna give you my heart) [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: A lot of ocs just work with me here, Accidental Force Healing (Star Wars), Aliens, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, BUT HE IS ALIVE MUAHAHHA, Bisexual Han Solo, COULD be a follow-up to the previous work, Canon-Typical Violence, Chaos, Deathsticks, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Everything Hurts, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Force Bond (Star Wars), Getting Together, Grey Jedi, Han Solo is here briefly, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, JEDI OUTCASTS FORM SPACE PIRATE GANG, Jealousy, Jedi Service Corps (Star Wars), M/M, Mutual Pining, Name Changes, Near Death Experiences, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Obi-Wan Kenobi Leaves the Jedi Order, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, POV Changes, Planet Bandomeer (Star Wars), Politics, Post-Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives, Recreational Drug Use, References to Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008), Slavery, Slow Burn, Space Pirates, Time Skips, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Vigilantism, Young Anakin Skywalker, damn rebellious teens, he knows everything, i tried to write each character as in-character as possible but oh well sometimes shit happens, it technically isn't but it could be, it's practically a personality overhaul are you kidding, no beta we die like men, oh its great, so much pining its like a forest up in here, thats my tag now, yay, yoda knows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:55:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 42,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27543457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveisarat/pseuds/fiveisarat
Summary: Childhood friend and Jedi dropout Jay Siska reentered Obi-Wan Kenobi's life six months ago, offering a choice. He could stay with the Jedi Order and continue to deny his feelings for his master, Qui-Gon Jinn, or go with him and help the galaxy on his own. Obi-Wan chose to stay.Now Obi-Wan is being kicked over the edge and falling into the Theed power generator on Naboo, sure of death. Until someone grabs his hand as he plummets, pulling him out of his tailspin and giving him a new purpose. But is Obi-Wan ready to make the jump from Jedi Padawan to space pirate? And will the bond between former master and apprentice ever give up on trying to shove the two back together?*NOTE: i rewrote some of "infinity on high" so that it is technically a stand-alone/alternate ending for "blow my mind, baby". they originally were connected, and now they are... not. makes the pining easier to write- anyway. just so we're good on that. tl;dr: "blow my mind" is with requited love and happy endings, if you're into that. IOH is full of pining, an eventual happy ending, and disaster characters.*
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character, Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: a sky full of stars (i'm gonna give you my heart) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016082
Comments: 14
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> GAY SPACE PIRATES! did the first fic need a sequel? no! did i write it anyway? yes!
> 
> *NOTE: i rewrote some of "infinity on high" so that it is technically a stand-alone/alternate ending for "blow my mind, baby". they originally were connected, and now they are... not. makes the pining easier to write- anyway. just so we're good on that. tl;dr: "blow my mind" is with requited love and happy endings, if you're into that. IOH is full of pining, an eventual happy ending, and disaster characters.*
> 
> the real title of this should be "gay space pirates: featuring darth maul's lightsaber, a great big 'fuck you' to the trade federation, flying through walls and talking weapons!" but uh- you'll see all of that anyway. 
> 
> the first part, down to the first divider, is obi-wan's pov, and then we walk on over to our man jay and his pov. hold on to your hats, folks, because entirely too much chaos lies ahead!
> 
> general tw/cw's for slavery/the occasional suggestive themes/violence/angst, brief passing tw for a mention of human trafficking in this chapter specifically

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *note: the new scene at the beginning is a reworked part of "blow my mind", just so we're all aware :) *

_For the first time in years, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and fought back tears, tears that were now spilling down his cheeks. But before he could duck his head and hide them, Qui-Gon looked up and cupped Obi-Wan's face in one of his large hands. His thumb brushed across his cheek and wiped tears away._

_"Master," he tried to say, but his voice broke halfway through and it came out as a strangled sob._

_Qui-Gon pressed his forehead gently to Obi-Wan's. "Oh, dear heart," he murmured, and the pet name only further broke the Padawan's self-control. "Obi-Wan. Darling. Shh, it's alright. It's okay." Another hitched whimper left his mouth as he realized- this, what he'd been thinking of doing, what he'd agreed to with Jay must have caused Qui-Gon's nightmares._

_"I-" Obi-Wan started. "I'm sorry," he gasped, the full weight of the realization hitting him hard._

_"For what?" Qui-Gon asked, brows furrowed in confusion, and that only made it worse somehow._

_"I was... I was going to leave," Obi-Wan said. "I- You had the visions because I was going to- go," he finished lamely, forcing himself to look away from his master's bright eyes._

_"You were- what?" Obi-Wan searched the older man's tone, and their bond simultaneously, for anger or resentment, but he could find none, just concern and confusion._

_"I was going to leave. An old friend... an old friend offered me a job elsewhere. But I can't, Master, I can't-"_

_"Shh," Qui-Gon whispered. "Hush, little one." Obi-Wan closed his eyes as he heard his master's voice break, and pulled him into a tight hug._ _Together they sat, crying silent tears. And when they got up, going to their separate rooms, they both felt as if a corner had been turned._

_And Obi-Wan's secret was still safe._

* * *

The red barriers are closed again. 

Obi-Wan watches his master parry and block, mostly on the defensive against the Sith they're battling. A Zabrak, with red skin and black markings, and horns. He can feel the anger and _darkness_ rolling off him in crazed waves. Obi-Wan knows Qui-Gon can't keep up this pace much longer- no one can. But all he can do is wait until the Sith-damned energy barriers open again. 

They're on Naboo now, in a power generator. But earlier, Qui-Gon had discovered a young slave boy on Tatooine, a boy with a higher midichlorian count than even Master Yoda. He's absolutely sure that this boy is the Chosen One, but the Jedi Council did not share the same faith in prophecy as his master does when they saw him. To be honest, Obi-Wan doesn't share that faith either, as much as he might wish that he did. And then... and then Qui-Gon had practically pushed him aside for this boy, this _Anakin Skywalker._ He had outright told the Council that _he_ would train Anakin, that Obi-Wan was ready to be a Knight. Right in front of him. Without talking to him first. 

This, after the incident six months ago. This after he almost left the Jedi Order to become... what, a space pirate? With an ex-Jedi apprentice who was always notorious for being incredibly impulsive and making half-cocked, knee-jerk decisions? 

But his relationship with Qui-Gon hasn't changed all that much. It seemed that, after Obi-Wan told the older man about his almost-defection, Qui-Gon had just seen it as "another day at the Temple". And so they never spoke of it again. Obi-Wan hates that he doesn't like how it's all the same. Maybe Qui-Gon thinks Obi-Wan wants it this way. And the truth is that he really, _really_ does not. Clarity and definitive answers are what Obi-Wan values, and with Qui-Gon it seems to be all cryptic looks and odd moments. 

The red barriers go down. Tensing, Obi-Wan ignites his lightsaber and barrels out, thinks better (better?) of it, and deactivates his saber as he runs. Qui-Gon shoots him a look, and his lapse in attention is just enough- the Zabrak strikes.

It's almost as if Obi-Wan is seeing it happen in slow motion, and it propels him to action. He hurls himself at the man in black, their bodies colliding with a force that rattles Obi-Wan's teeth as he clings to the Sith's robe. The power of it sends the other man's lightsaber skittering away. Obi-Wan is desperately trying to keep him on the ground long enough for Qui-Gon to kill him. And as the lightsaber comes down, the Sith meets Obi-Wan's gaze, bares his teeth, and throws him. 

It is his last act.

Qui-Gon's green lightsaber severs his torso from his legs as Obi-Wan gropes blindly, catching himself on a little handhold as he falls into the power generator. Relief floods him. He's holding on. 

"Obi-Wan!" comes his master's voice from above him. He's down just far enough that Qui-Gon can't physically reach him. He feels the Force around him and knows, like it's his own thought, that he has a choice. 

So Obi-Wan's grip is slipping, and slipping fast. His master reaches out with the Force just as Obi-Wan's grip breaks, and his own shout of surprise and fear sounds foreign as he drops. The wind is slicing past his ears, and the last thing he feels is the stabbing fear and sadness through his bond with Qui-Gon. And... and an oddly realistic phantom sensation of someone grasping his hand, before everything goes black. 

* * *

Look, when the Force says something, you listen. So when I feel a stab of fearcome shrieking through the Force, when I see Angel, our fifteen year old mechanic, and Cole, our pilot and resident rational thinker, tense, I know it isn't just me making things up. 

"Cole, we're following it," I say, standing and trying to probe the feeling. Beside me, he nods and starts up the ship. I get little flashes of a power generator, and I only know of one on Naboo that large. "It's gotta be the Theed power generator." 

"There isn't a way in," he says, but yells for Angel to hold on to something anyway. He walks to the cockpit, presses a couple buttons, and the ship shudders as we lift off. I walk in, where Cole is flying the ship manually toward the generator. 

"There's a hangar," I point out. 

"Looks like there's some action going on down there," Cole squints through the windows. 

"Can we get to the generator through the hangar?" I press. 

"Probably, but we could attract fire from whoever's down there," he says, and heads for the hangar at breakneck speed. 

"Fire?" Angel walks in. "Who's fighting on _Naboo_?" 

"It's something to do with the Queen, it must be," Cole answers. "She's the only real important one here. Separatists?" he asks. I shrug. I'm not real up-to-date on galactic politics at the moment. 

"Weren't the Jedi sent to protect her?" Angel asks. 

I look up and over at her quickly, "Where'd you hear that?" 

She shrugs. "It's all over. You know how people are about the Jedi." 

I do know how people are about the Jedi. I know because I was going to _be_ one. We all were. We're all Temple rejects. Cole wasn't Force-sensitive enough to become a Padawan, and no master would take Angel. But me, I left on my own, about five years ago. 

Usually, when people leave the Order- well, it doesn't happen often. But when they do, they're usually Knights or Masters who have differences of opinion with the Jedi Council. I was a 20 year old Padawan who didn't care about the Council. I was old enough to leave, but young enough for people to be surprised that I did. And really, they shouldn't have been surprised. Because all of them had been talking for years about how it was practically inevitable that I would become a user of the Dark Side. But I'm not. I didn't leave to use it, I'm not using much of it now. So they're proved wrong, in the end. 

Cole yells, "The doors are blast-proof!" 

"Give me the comm, you keep flying," I call back. He tosses me the comlink, and I input a frequency code that the soldier's comms will pick up. 

"Let us in, we're with the Jedi," I yell into it as soon as the comm buzzes, letting me know someone's picked up the signal. 

"Who-" comes a crackling voice. 

"Jedi," I bark, cutting him off. "Let us through, we're here to help." The blast doors slide open and I let out a whoop. "Alright! I didn't think that would work. They must be desperate." 

Angel laughs from the window, where she's watching the chaos unfold. "Seeing as we're clearly not Jedi, and we don't have anything to do with them." And then her expression drops as we fly into the hangar. "I recognize those troops. It's the Trade Federation," she says. 

The Trade Federation. No wonder they let us through. Their army is absolutely _massive_ , and these guys in the hangar are probably overwhelmed. The Trade Federation is this huge trade company, so powerful they have representatives in the Galactic Senate. Anyone in their right mind would look at that and know there's an issue with that. But they're powerful enough to force planets into contracts and blockade them, controlling system politics that way. Also, they do business with Separatists, and that's suspicious in and of itself. I don't like them. 

"Trade Federation later," I say. "Power generator now, please. Cole, are we in yet?" 

His expression is pinched, like he doesn't like what he's going to do. "We're going to fly into it." 

"Wait." I've caught his meaning. 

"There are tunnels leading to the palace," he explains quickly as he pilots through said tunnels. "The power generator is attached to the palace. We follow the feeling, which should be easy enough-" He swerves to avoid blaster fire from the people below us. "We get to the generator." 

"Good thinking," I say. 

"Why are we following this... _feeling_ anyway?" Angel asks. 

"It feels familiar," I answer, unable to come up with a better response at the moment. 

Cole looks up. "Maybe to you. But if someone's out there and needs our help-" 

"We help them. Right," she finishes his sentence. 

"Hold on!" he shouts suddenly, and revs the ship. We go crashing through a (flimsier than I thought) wall and break into the power generator. 

"There!" I shout, pointing to a broad, tall, long haired figure leaning over the edge of the generator. I can't make out who it is exactly. 

"You think whoever it was fell down there?" Angel says incredulously. 

"That's what it looks like," Cole answers. "I'm gonna hover and cloak us. Make sure he doesn't see us."

"Good. Although it might be a little hard, as we just broke into the generator," I drawl, but focus on probing the generator. My Force signature brushes against Obi-Wan's- he's still alive. I grit my teeth and focus on him. He's dropping, he probably just fell, but these generators run deep. I put out a hand and feel the corporeal brush of his hand against mine. 

"I've got him!" I say through gritted teeth. "He's not falling, but I can't-" I pull on the tremulous connection, but nothing happens. I've got him levitating, but I don't have a good enough hold to bring him up. 

"I have a plan. Keep him there, we're taking a back way," Cole says, voice determined. 

"Got it," I shoot back. The ship powers up behind me and we slowly move through the generator. I keep my grip on Obi-Wan tight. And then Cole goes and pilots the Negotiator _straight down_ into the generator _._ "Angel, gimme a hand, would you?" I ask. She nods, rushing over and tapping into our bond. I reach out more and our grip gets a little better. He's in mid-air. Just above us. 

"Let go!" I hear Cole yell from the cockpit a moment later, and we release our hold. I hear a _thump_ in the crew's lounge as the ship lurches to the left, barreling through machinery and tunnels at sudden breakneck speed until we see the hangar again. We shoot out into the light of Naboo's sun, careening to a stop a few moments later behind the palace. Cole barrels past us into the lounge.

"Did we get him?" Angel asks. 

I nod and follow Cole, who's checking Obi-Wan over. 

"Unconscious. But not dead, and no open wounds that I see," he says when we walk in. Obi-Wan is lying on the sofa in the crew's lounge, unconscious. His lightsaber is off, on the floor next to him. 

"Oh, thank the stars," I say quietly. "At least the guy down there didn't feel us using the Force." and then I see it- "Wait." A glint of silver catches my eye and I bend down and pick up whatever it is on the floor, that must have fallen in with Obi-Wan. It's a silver lightsaber, with two buttons on either side. 

"What is _that_?" Angel whispers. 

"It's a- a lightsaber," I say, voice equally quiet. "But it's not his. It's not mine, I _have_ mine," I unclip my own from my belt. I look down and feel a dark fuzziness invading the corners of my mind. "Oh _hell_ no," I drop it and the darkness fades, as quickly as it arrived. "That thing is evil. It's gotta be cursed or something." 

Cole rolls his eyes. "You're being dramatic." He picks it up, turning it over in his hands. I scoff and wait a few seconds. His eyes go wide and he puts the thing down on the table quickly. "Okay. It's bad. I don't like it." 

"Let me try," Angel says, and snatches it before either of us can say anything. She holds it for a moment or two. "It's not that bad," she shrugs. 

"Not that _bad_?" I demand. "Are you fucking nuts? That thing is full of dark energy, you can feel it." 

"I can," she says. "It was used by a Sith. A Zabrak. He was with Obi-Wan and the other Jedi back there. They were fighting." 

"How do you know that?" Cole asks. 

She turns to look at us, "I can see it. I picked it up and I could see it." 

"I've read about this," Cole says. "It's a Force power. Force Echo. You touch things and you can see who used it and its history." 

I snap my fingers. "I knew there was an upside to you being a huge nerd all the time." 

He rolls his eyes again. "Shut up." he frowns. "But the Force Echo- it happens for all things, if you have it. Angel, has this happened before?" 

"No," she looks up, shakes her head, and goes back to twirling the deactivated saber between her fingers. 

"So just now," I mutter. "When I touched it, I just felt the darkness of it." 

"So did I," Cole says. "But I didn't know about the Sith thing until she said it." 

"Well, it's ours now," I shrug. "Look, none of us are Sith. The more people with lightsabers, the better. And hey, is it double-bladed?" I ask Angel. 

She grins wickedly and flicks one button. The blade glows red. She tilts it sideways, admiring the hum it makes as it slices through the air, then clicks the other button. Another red blade shoots out of the other side. 

"I think it is," she grins. "I like it. I think it's cool." 

Cole visibly shudders. "You won't catch me touching that thing." 

"Yeah, 'cause it's mine now," Angel smirks. 

"Whatever. Sit down, we gotta get off this planet before we get shot," I say. Cole gets up and starts to walk back to the cockpit. 

"Wait," Angel says. "The reason the Sith was here in the first place." She comes over to us. "He was supposed to capture the Queen, force her to sign a treaty with the Trade Federation." 

"Did the saber tell you that?" I ask. 

"Yes," she nods, brushing her curly brown hair out of her face. "I saw it." 

"Well, the Queen's got the Jedi on her side. She'll be fine," Cole says. 

"No, wait," Angel says. "Look outside. The Federation's using droids. They've got to be controlled somewhere, right? We can help if we find the ship that controls them. The Queen _and_ the Jedi have a better chance of surviving if we do." 

"We can't help everyone, Angel," Cole argues from beside me. 

"No, but we _can_ help here. And don't the two of you always say if someone needs our help, we give it?" 

I sigh. "We do, but that applies to, like, beating the hell out of human trafficking gangs. Not intergalactic political battles like this." 

"Please. Come on, none of us like the Trade Federation. This is our shot to give 'em the finger and leave. Nobody'll even know we were involved." 

"Unless we're spotted," Cole says. 

"Fine!" I concede. "But this is _it,_ okay? Blow up the control Federation ship and get the hell out." Angel nods, and Cole just lets out a groan and goes to the cockpit. I grin. I do like the idea of messing with the Trade Federation. 

"Alright, taking off!" Cole yells. "Grab on to something!" I steady myself against the wall and Angel sits next to Obi-Wan's unconscious body on the sofa. 

I pull the comlink from my belt and search for available comm frequencies on a datapad. There's a few, but one is labeled NABOOSTRFGTRS, which I'm assuming stands for Naboo Starfighters. I quickly tap in as we leave Naboo's atmosphere and join the fighters in space, right in front of the heavily shielded Trade Federation control ship. 

"Need some help up here?" I say into the comlink, smile wide. 

"Who's this?" A woman's voice crackles over the line. 

"The name's Siska, and we're the _Negotiator_. Here to help." 

"We'll take all the help we can get." It's a man's voice this time. "Bravo Flight A, _Negotiator_ , take on the fighters. Flight B, make the run on the transmitter." 

"Roger, Bravo Leader," another pilot says. I grin and release the transmit button. 

"Angel! You're the gunner for this one," I yell. "Click onto the Naboo starfighter frequency." 

"Finally!" she cries, and dashes down to her station. I hear her click into the channel. " _Negotiator_ gunner. We're aiming for the fighters?" she asks, voice all business. 

"Affirmative," the first pilot says. I hear Angel yell excitedly from downstairs as she starts to fire at Trade Federation ships. 

After a few minutes, Bravo Leader clicks on and says, "Bravo Flight, go for the central bridge." I shoot off a quick "Roger", and Cole, who's hearing this, swerves left towards the bridge. I feel the ship shake as Angel fires at stray fighters, and then at the bridge. 

Bravo Leader says, "Their deflector shield is too strong. We'll never get through." I sigh and yell down to Angel to focus on the fighters coming at us. 

And then, all of a sudden- "What's that? It's blowing up from the inside!" shouts a pilot. I search the ship- he's right! Little explosions are starting to come from the inside of the Federation ship. They're getting bigger, and blowing more of the ship to bits. 

"I don't know, we didn't hit it!" Bravo Leader replies. " _Negotiator_?" 

"Nope," I reply.

The same pilot from before says, "Look! One of ours! Out of the main hold!" And he's right- a yellow ship shoots out of the hold as celebratory whoops fill the comm lines. 

"Head back!" Bravo Leader calls. " _Negotiator,_ you too, if you can." 

Cole looks up at me, and I nod. "Roger, Bravo Leader. Good job, guys." 

Angel shoots up from her station, hair a mess and a huge smile on her face. "Who the hell was the guy who blew it up from the _inside_?" she asks. 

"I don't know, but they're a good pilot," Cole says, smiling. "Alright. Are we heading back with the rest of them?" 

"Please? I wanna see who flew that thing!" Angel says. 

"Sure," I agree, and Cole nods, following the pilots to the central hangar. The three of us shoot each other mischievous glances, remembering our flight in here before. Here's hoping nobody recognizes the ship. Cole pops the hatch and lets the ramp down and I run out, Angel hot on my heels. 

" _Negotiator_!" I hear a pilot cheer, and people start walking over, clapping and smiling at us. "Which one of you's Siska, huh?" 

"That'd be me," I grin. "This is our pilot, Cole, and our gunner, Angel." 

"You were right on time, going up there like that," Bravo Leader puts his hand out for me to shake. I do, and smile at him. "We needed the help." 

"It was an honor, Bravo Leader," I say. 

"The name's Ric, Ric Olie." 

"Ric, then," I nod. 

"Hey, look, there's the guy who blew up the ship!" someone shouts. A ship is flying into the hangar, and the three of us, Ric, the ground crew, and a few of the other pilots rush over to it. 

"We're all accounted for. Who flew that ship?" Ric asks. 

The cockpit hatch pops and it's- 

"A little _kid_?" Angel says incredulously. And it is, a human kid, maybe nine years old, with sandy brown-blonde hair and pale skin. He looks around at all of us and says-

"I'm not going to get in trouble, am I?" 

* * *

The boy's name, we learn, is Anakin, and he stays in the hangar for a little bit as everyone hangs up their uniforms and the ground crew checks over the ships. I go back inside for a moment to check on Obi-Wan, who's awake and sitting up. 

"Jay?" he asks. 

"Yeah," I grin. 

"I was falling," he mumbles, rubbing at his temples. "I thought I was dead." 

"We felt you fall," I shrug. "We practically broke the ship trying to catch you." 

"We?" 

"Yeah, me, Cole and Angel. I should really introduce you all." I say. "It's okay now, though. The Sith's dead, Jinn's okay. We defeated the Trade Federation, and this little kid named Anakin blew up their control ship from the inside. It was pretty sick." 

"Anakin?" Obi-Wan stands up, a little too fast for my liking. 

"Whoa there," I say, tugging him back down. "You were out for a long time. You gotta rest." 

"I _have_ to get Anakin back to Qui-Gon." 

"He's a little old to be a youngling, isn't he?" I ask. 

"Yes, but he's insisting that Anakin is the Chosen One. From the prophecies." 

I frown. "See, Cole's better at this sort of thing than me. We talking about _the_ Chosen One, who will 'bring balance to the Force' or whatever?" Obi-Wan just nods. "Who would train him?" I ask. "Or who was Jinn thinking?" Obi-Wan's grimace in reply tells me everything I need to know about _that_. Wow. 

"He-" I start. 

"Went right before the Jedi Council and told them, _without asking me first_ , that I'm ready for the trials and that _he_ would train Anakin." he says. 

"What?" I demand. "Are you kidding?" 

"No," he affirms. 

"Jesus. Man, if _my_ master pulled a move like that-" I stop myself and shrug. "Well, I wouldn't be surprised. But Obi-Wan-" I sit up. "You _are_ ready for the trials. You're going to be a great Jedi Knight." 

My friend looks me dead in the eye and asks, as calmly as if he were asking what was for breakfast, "What if I don't want to be?" 

I gape at him for a solid three seconds. "What?" 

"What if I don't want that," Obi-Wan repeats. "What if I want to know whether or not your offer from a few months ago still stands." 

"It does," I say. "But-" 

"I almost told Qui-Gon about it. That night." So he didn't. I stay silent, letting him talk. "I didn't. It still shook us both up but... nothing's changed." I nod as he gestures vaguely. "Anakin- why would he push me into the trials, if not to get rid of me? If not to get to train the apprentice he really wants to have? And so I want to know- does your offer, the one where you told me I could get over all this if I left with you, does it still stand?" 

"Obi-Wan," I say, feeling struck speechless and head spinning. Obi-Wan's unquestionable loyalty to his master is _finally_ wavering. And while it should have wavered a long time ago, like _my_ faith in mine did, it is amazing how long it lasted. Especially when Qui-Gon Jinn's done him dirty on many, _many_ occasions. "You always have a place with me. You know that. You're my friend." 

He smiles. "You're my friend too, Jay. Maybe I should have gone with you then." 

I try for a smile, but I'm reeling at his decision. "Dwelling on the past gets you nowhere, man. You taught me that. So. What's the plan?" 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew of the Negotiator gains a new member, and Anakin Skywalker notices a lot more than people give him credit for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to show a different side of obi-wan kenobi in this fic, the side that wants what's best for everyone around him, but also the side that wants what *he* wants. that wants to be selfish. cause in my humble opinion, the shit that qui-gon did to him in tpm (ESPECIALLY with that anakin and the council shit, hell to the no sir) and in the books preceding tpm, like master & apprentice, was fucked up. and it could have been avoided, too!! this fic is essentially "the birth of obi-is-done kenobi (or how qui-gon jinn learned he had made a big fucking mistake)". anyway. 
> 
> here we start in tiny anakin's pov, although it's not for long, then to obi-wan, and then jay. have fun!!

Anakin, as it turns out, wasn't in as much trouble as he thought. He'd actually helped win the battle! And all the pilots said he was a great pilot, and that if he ever wanted to go to this place they called the "Academy" they would accept him and really teach him to fly. 

Earlier, he'd walked around and looked at all the ships, the X-wings and the one ship that had helped them, that everyone called _Negotiator._ The pilot, Cole had told him that the ship was a Corellian Barloz-class freighter that he'd built weapons into. He said that one day, he'd give Anakin a tour, but they'd be leaving soon. He tells Anakin, "May the Force be with you", and winks as he leaves. Anakin likes Cole. 

The other two, he's not too sure about- the curly haired girl is very _bouncy,_ and maybe Anakin would like her more if she didn't keep referring to him as a "little kid". She can't be older than Padme, so she's technically a kid, too! The black haired man is nice, but he talks really fast, and sometimes Anakin can't keep up. But after a while, he figures he should probably go find Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan and Padme. 

Walking off, unseen, Anakin looks through the hallways, and as he turns another corner, he sees Qui-Gon walking towards him. Alone.

"Qui-Gon!" he dashes over to the Jedi, who smiles at him. His eyes look a little red-rimmed. "Wait, where's Obi-Wan?" 

Qui-Gon's smile twists into more of a grimace. "I'll explain in a moment. Come, Anakin, we must find the Queen." But Anakin knows when people are avoiding questions when he hears it. 

He supposes this means Obi-Wan is dead. 

* * *

"Cole! We gotta go, man," I call. He looks up from where he's talking to another pilot, grins at her, and dashes over. "Having fun?" I smirk. He flushes. 

"Shut up." 

Obi-Wan is sitting on the couch, absentmindedly twisting his Padawan braid between his fingers. He snaps out of it as we walk in, head shooting up. 

"Where's Angel?" I look around. "Can't have proper introductions without all of the crew." 

"Here!" she runs in. "Just saying goodbye to some of the guys." she stops and looks at Obi-Wan. "Oh, he's awake." 

"Guys, this is Obi-Wan Kenobi. Obi-Wan, this is the crew, Cole Evetras and Angel Zepsel." 

Obi-Wan stands and extends his hand for them to shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you." Cole nods and shakes his hand, and Angel is much more receptive, shaking it forcefully. 

"So, you're the Jedi on the team now?" she asks. "What's a Jedi doing traveling with us, huh?" 

"I don't think I'm a Jedi anymore," Obi-Wan whispers, and hearing his realization of what this truly means hurts _me_ as well. I look away, shoving my own memories of leaving the Jedi Order back into their little box in the back of my mind. Now is not the time. 

"Then you gotta get some new clothes," Angel shrugs. "That and cut this bad boy off." she reaches up and tugs lightly at his braid. I tense, because this is all very raw and fresh, and Obi-Wan could take this badly.

Cole, thank the Force for him, because he shrugs and says, "I don't know. If he cut off this," and he reaches around the older boy and touches his nerf tail lightly, "And grew the rest out, he could keep it and it'd look alright." 

Angel looks at him appraisingly, "It could work." 

"Alright, alright, you guys, lay off," I grin. Leaning over to whisper in Obi-Wan's ear, I say, "They like you, if you're wondering what all that meant." He laughs a little, smiling at us. 

"Okay!" I clap my hands. "We gotta go before someone rats us out to the important people. Cole, to the cockpit with you," I say dramatically, and Cole snorts, walking past me. Then he turns and snatches my goggles right off my head and runs to the front of the ship. 

"You piece of shit! Hey, get back here!" I go after him as Angel and Obi-Wan giggle behind us. 

* * *

Nights in space are awfully quiet, Obi-Wan thinks. 

He hasn't gotten a chance to think about everything since he'd woken up. He'd been practically overwhelmed by Jay and his crewmates, Cole and Angel. Cole's clearly the most responsible of the three of them. Angel's the youngest, loud and boisterous. And Jay's an odd mix of both, Obi-Wan's only noticing it now because there's finally someone crazier than Jay that he knows. 

He's trying to keep his thoughts away from the slave boy, Anakin, especially because earlier Angel was talking animatedly about how he blew up the Trade Federation control ship and turned off all the droids. She reminds him a little bit of Anakin.

It really isn't his fault all of this happened. He doesn't _dislike_ the boy, doesn't hate him, and can't really blame him for any of it. He should have known the first time Qui-Gon spoke of him that Anakin would be the new center of Qui-Gon's world, the way _he_ was the center of Obi-Wan's. If anything, Obi-Wan is at fault for this, for letting his feelings cloud his judgement and letting himself hurt like this. 

_Qui-Gon._

Just the mention of his former master makes his throat go tight and tears well in his eyes. His bond feels like it's been torn, ragged edges desperately reaching through the Force to connect with Qui-Gon's end. 

The fact that it's broken, or it seems to be, makes no sense. Because Obi-Wan isn't dead, and he and Qui-Gon have been separated for all of- he checks the chronal- five hours. Closer to six. So why does it hurt like this? It's like part of him is dead and hollow and with every breath he takes it _hurts_. Still, neither of them are dead, and it hasn't even been that long. As he thinks about it, Obi-Wan's hand makes its way to play with and tug lightly on his Padawan braid. Once he notices, he's jerking his hand away from it like it's burned him. 

The _braid._

Obi-Wan thinks of Angel's words from before- _"Then you gotta get some new clothes. That, and cut this bad boy off."_ He almost physically recoils at the thought of cutting it. The bond twists like he's taken a blade to the heart. The braid- it is his reminder of Qui-Gon, that he desperately wants to cast aside and forget about, but it is also his _last physical_ _reminder of Qui-Gon,_ that he desperately wants to keep as his last connection to him. 

It's been twelve years, and the braid, with its tiny beads, shows it. His time with Qui-Gon is over. So Obi-Wan grasps the braid and promises himself that as soon as it all stops hurting, he will cut it for good. But he will keep it this short, because his time is up. It effectively ended in the Council chambers when Qui-Gon cast him aside for Anakin Skywalker.

The former Jedi apprentice, having made a shakily confident decision, sits and stares off into the darkness of the room he was given until morning. 

* * *

I wake up the next morning to Cole yelling from the crew's lounge. He's up absurdly early, as usual. 

"Whose _goddamned_ cat is this!" 

I throw off the covers (wincing at the sudden cold) and walk out, ruffling my hair. 

"There's a cat?" Angel asks. She's up too, her hair a wild mess. Obi-Wan emerges from his quarters, looking rather put-together, but like he hasn't gotten much sleep, if any. 

" _Yes_ there's a cat!" Cole says, hands on hips. "In my room. Go look!" We walk over, and yep- on Cole's bed is a large, tawny, beige cat. Protruding from its lower jaw are two large tusks. 

"Looks more like a lion to me," I comment. "If lions had tusks." 

"Well, that makes me feel _so_ much better about it!" he snaps from behind me. I smirk over my shoulder. 

"Hey, Obi-Wan," I say. 

"Yes?" 

"You were good with animals, I think. You think you can figure out what this is?" I ask. 

He blinks once, but nods. "I can try." And he walks slowly towards the thing, who's lounging on the bed like he owns the place, looking a little bit smug. I can't help the way the corner of my mouth twitches up into a half-smile at the thought. 

Obi-Wan extends his hand, letting the large cat sniff at it. It withdraws its head and looks at him, then past him at us. Its tail twitches. It's clearly not afraid. It's not pissed, or scared of us, or anything. Like it knows we're the ones that f

"Well, we're not dead yet," Angel breathes from beside me. I just nod, watching the scene unfold in front of me. Obi-Wan reaches out and gently places his hand on the cat's head, not moving it, but keeping it there. It sniffs the underside of his wrist and lets his hand stay there. It's then that I notice the Force moving, just a little, around the two. Oh, Obi-Wan, you clever thing. He's in the cat's head, getting it to trust us, if previous experience has anything to say about it. 

"What is it?" I ask quietly. 

"It's a Tusk cat," Obi-Wan says, voice distracted as he slowly starts to pet the cat's head. "Native to Naboo and Corellia." He straightens up. "We should be alright. Although it's taken over your bed, Cole. I don't think that's _your_ bed anymore." Cole just huffs, hiding a laugh, and goes to make caff.

Angel snorts. "He's nicer after caff," she says. 

"Aren't we all," I mutter, smiling nonetheless and following Cole to the crew's lounge. We all sit on the curved sofa around the table as Cole hands us mugs of caff. 

"We gotta find a place to repair the ship and refuel," Cole says, without preamble. 

"What's closest?" I ask, and he pulls out a datapad, examining a star map of the Naboo system. 

"The planet Rori," he says. "They have a space station that does repairs for travelers. We can stop there and then get out of the system." 

"Gotta watch for the RNSF, though," Angel says, leaning over to see the screen for herself. 

"The RNSF?" I ask, stirring sugar into my caff. 

"The Royal Naboo Service Forces," Obi-Wan explains. "They patrol the system for smugglers and anyone who could pose a threat to the Queen." 

Cole and I exchange a look. We're not full-time smugglers, but hey- something's got to pay the bills. And we're paid well for the jobs we do. 

"It's a good thing we're between jobs then," Angel says, having seen the unspoken conversation between us. 

"You smuggle?" my friend asks. 

"We have to," I say. "So we don't starve up here. But we try not to, 'cause it's real easy to get caught." 

"If you don't do it full-time then what _do_ you do?" Obi-Wan asks. 

Cole shrugs, "We steal, mostly." 

Angel nods along. "We steal from the rich and give to the poor, you know. Especially on those snobbish Core Worlds. Coruscant, Corellia- sometimes Naboo," she smirks. "If we can't plan a full-on heist, you know, stealing stuff from rich people that don't need it, then we pickpocket." 

"And we free slaves," Cole chimes in. 

"You free slaves?" 

"Yeah," I nod. "The Republic outlawed slavery a long time ago, but a lot of planets still allow it. Some planets, especially on the Outer Rim, are particularly blatant about it. They don't bother hiding it at all." 

"Like Tatooine," Obi-Wan says, and I look over. But there's not a sign of emotion on his face besides curiosity, and none in his voice. 

"Yeah," Cole nods. 

"Right," I take a sip of my caff. "So we go to those places and free everyone who wants to be free." 

"The Republic should really do a better job at monitoring slavery on backwater and Outer Rim planets," Obi-Wan mutters. 

"They should, but they don't," Cole says dryly. 

To add some perspective, Cole was a slave on Tatooine. When he turned out to be Force-sensitive, and taken to become a Jedi as a toddler, he had to leave his mother behind. She's dead now, we know that for sure because when I picked up Cole on Bandomeer after the Jedi had tossed him out, the first thing he asked was whether or not we could try and find his mother. I accepted and we flew to Tatooine. Only to find that the slave master had killed her in a moment of drunken rage. 

After that, Cole changed. He became more guarded. Took on more responsibility. I think he accepted that his childhood was over, and so he... grew up. It's difficult to watch, because two years ago, when Angel stowed away on our ship on Bandomeer (Cole had some friends there that we were seeing), the look of hardened competence was already in her eyes. It showed, like it still does now, in everything she does. The look of a kid who grew up too fast, who trusted someone and was betrayed by them. And I know if I look in the mirror, I would see the same thing. 

Looking at Obi-Wan now, as Angel asks about why he's here, and as he tells the story, however haltingly, of the master that he loved, the Chosen One, Anakin, another slave on Tatooine who left his mother behind, I can see it start to form in his eyes too. 

It appeared in Cole when he was rejected by the Temple. It appeared in Angel when no master took her as a Padawan. I saw it start to show in my eyes, a long time ago, when my master convinced the whole of the Jedi Temple that I was destined to be Sith. And now it is appearing in Obi-Wan, now that his master has put him aside for the Chosen One. 

I'm honestly sick of seeing it. I'd like to see someone grow up and see the world as a good place, see their friends as trustworthy. It might be too late for us, but I hope there's someone out there who's had it better than we did. 

Once we make it to the station, Cole and Angel go outside, haggling with the mechanics on the space station. Angel complains about how she could make most of the repairs, but Cole shoots that down pretty quickly. The inside, the wiring and any damage to the electronics, she can fix. But on the outside, we're pretty banged up from flying through too-small tunnels and the wall of a Naboo power generator. The bigger things she can't. And while they're out there, Obi-Wan and I are in his new quarters discussing the merits of telling the Jedi that he is, in fact, alive. 

"It doesn't seem fair to just let Qui- everyone think I'm dead," he argues, and while I notice his slip, I don't say anything about it. 

"It probably isn't," I say, leaning back against the wall. "Obi-Wan, this is the only time I'll give you a- a rule, or an ultimatum or something." I sit up. "Because your choices are," and I laugh a little, dry as it is, " _Your_ choices. But you have to decide what you want." I pause for a moment, thinking my words through as best I can. "It's not fair to your master if you disappear for days and _then_ tell him that you're alive. You can't do both, Obi-Wan." 

He nods.

"You said when you joined us that you wanted to get over Qui-Gon," I say earnestly. "And this is your chance. But holding on to the past while you try to let go of it at the same time doesn't work." 

"I know," he whispers. "I think... it's going to take a while." 

"It will," I say, voice dropping to a whisper of my own. "It will. And it's going to be hard to do. But I believe in you, Obi-Wan." 

Obi-Wan leans in to hug me, and I return it, wrapping my arms around the taller ex-Jedi and wondering absentmindedly how he, the Jedi's perfect Padawan, managed to get himself _here_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment/kudos if you liked this!! they give me ~ life ~


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan desperately wants to distance himself from the perfect Jedi Padawan he used to be, but he might be trying to take it a little too far too fast. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Qui-Gon must work through the nightmare visions he's having surrounding his Padawan. Again. Except this time, they are even more confusing, and implies that Obi-Wan is alive. 
> 
> But that isn't possible, because Obi-Wan is dead. 
> 
> (featuring my man Mace Windu)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> qui-gon feels because i've been putting it off!! starting with obi-wan, switching over to qui, then back and forth, y'know?
> 
> pls, all the people who have commented? i fuckin' love you guys. not weirdly. like. platonically and shit. my adhd ass *requires* validation or we just sorta... give up on things? so those comments was hella nice to see. thank you *sniff* 
> 
> your typical cw/tw for violence throughout the fic, but specifically this chapter for drug use/references and alcohol and shit, AND (if this triggers you) mild (but non-sexual) encounters between obi-wan and someone who isn't qui-gon. just a heads-up!

"Hold still!" 

"I'm trying!" 

Jay giggles from where he's leaning against the wall as Angel tries to put kohl on Obi-Wan. She shoots him a glare, and Obi-Wan tries to mimic it, which prompts a whole new onslaught of scolding about staying still. She's using a kohl eye pencil to line his eyes with the dark substance. She had said it would make his eyes pop. 

Angel and Cole had dug out some clothes for him- stuff that had been too big for Cole and I, some of Angel's makeup, an old pair of Jay's boots. Obi-Wan is dressed now in a dark, dark blue, more black, sleeveless tunic and black pants. His lightsaber is clipped to his belt, and he keeps fiddling with the clip, knowing the anxiety is almost palpable around him. The Tusk cat is trying to put its head in Cole's lap, who is not having it. It's pretty fun to watch their back-and-forth. 

They had spent most of the day in repairs and then getting out of the Naboo system so no one could track them down from the battle. It's evening now, and Obi-Wan is jittery, almost vibrating with nervous energy. The nerves had started after they left the space station. Maybe because it's truly _final_ now, that he left his master and he's going out and he's going to wear _eyeliner_ , for crying out loud. _And_ he'll be setting foot on a planet he barely knows, and that same foot into one of its dingy nightclubs. 

But Obi-Wan wants this- wants the distractions. Wants to know what he's been missing, because of the restrictions that being a Jedi imposes. He wants to know about these things called _deathsticks_ that Jay talked about earlier, wants to feel the thrill of a successful heist, like Angel described. He wants to know the feeling of family, like the tightly-knit one formed by the crew of the _Negotiator._ And love. Like how Cole looks at Jay when his back is turned, when he thinks no one sees. 

Sometimes, Obi-Wan thinks, he is ridiculously out of touch with things that everyone else seems to know really well. But then, he thinks, sometimes he picks up on things nobody else notices. 

Angel finishes with the kohl, thank the Force, but she tells him to close his eyes as she smudges it around on his eyelid and under his eye. 

"Alright, open your eyes," she instructs, and he does. She leans forward to inspect her work, and then takes out a hand mirror. "Here, check it out," she's smirking, and Jay and Cole are walking behind her to get a good look at him. So he looks. 

Aside from the kohl, Angel's made some other minor changes. She's taken his nerf tail out of its bands and styled it so it doesn't look like it's longer than the rest of his hair. The braid is pinned up, in almost a loop so it's not as long. She'd been talking about growing out the rest of his hair, and he likes the idea, because she also said she could pin the braid out of sight if he did. So it would be there, but not glaringly obvious to him, or to anyone else. 

It's his eyes that catch his attention, and hold it there.

Obi-Wan's eyes have always been a blue-green mix, bright and wide. But with the eyeliner, they almost jump right out at him from the mirror. He looks... _different._ Not only does the kohl suit him oddly well, but the darker clothes do too, and the sleeveless tunic shows off his muscular arms and shoulders. It gives him a rougher edge. He doesn't look like a Jedi Padawan. He looks, just a little, like something darker. Something just a little bit _dangerous._ He does still look like a Jedi, of course. It shows in every move he makes. But he is different now.

But that, that is what he _likes_ about it. 

* * *

" _N_ _o!_ "

Qui-Gon sits bolt upright, eyes wide and shaking with barely-suppressed terror. Another nightmare. 

He hasn't had another vision since Obi-Wan confessed to almost leaving the Jedi six months ago. Just the thought of the event makes his heart twist, and something inside him grope for Obi-Wan's ever familiar presence in the Force. But there is nothing to grab onto.

The visions _had_ stopped, but had come back every so often in flashbacks and memories since then. He could remember them, but only sometimes, by the morning. But this one... this one is different. New. And, like the nightmares before it, it centered around his Padawan- his _former_ Padawan. He and Obi-Wan had spent so much of their lives together that Qui-Gon had felt that he had been, hoped he would always be the one, steady constant thing in his life. 

Well, not anymore. 

This vision starts on Naboo, in the power generator. Obi-Wan slamming into Maul, taking him to the floor. Qui-Gon swinging his lightsaber through the Sith's middle. His last act of defiance, throwing Obi-Wan, with immense strength (his Padawan was _not_ small), into the generator. Obi-Wan, grabbing on to the side, but being too far down for Qui-Gon to reach him. His grip slipping. Qui-Gon, paralyzed by fear and previous failures. Obi-Wan drops into the generator, struck silent by his own fear, but his emotions piercing Qui-Gon's soul through the Force. 

And the scene cuts, cuts to Obi-Wan's fall stopping. His eyes are closed, limp in mid-air. And then he drops again. Then darkness, and then he sees Obi-Wan's bright blue-green eyes, rimmed with something dark. They stare into him, expression anxious and confused. 

Then to darkness once more, with deep, cutting emotions hitting Qui-Gon one after the other. Anger, but it's not very strong. Confusion and fear, much deeper and almost self-encompassing. Sadness, and it is that that really does overwhelm him, like a wave that breaks over him and holds him down. 

And last, the last scene has, like the vision before it, a tall, hooded stranger in a black robe. But unlike the first vision, he does not kill Obi-Wan with a red lightsaber. He merely puts out his hand and shoots _Force lightning_ right at his former apprentice. Obi-Wan drops to his knees, a cry ripping from his throat. It's then that Qui-Gon notices a smaller figure- a child, standing behind Obi-Wan. Like Obi-Wan is protecting them. The figure in the black robe stands, and laughs and laughs. 

It _hurts._ It sends a lance straight through Qui-Gon's chest and he has to remember to stay quiet as he pants and tries to catch his breath and calm down. Anakin is in the adjoining room, and it would not be good to wake him. 

Anakin. The boy is starting in the creche now, learning the basics of meditation and how to read and such. Apparently, despite being hyperactive and occasionally, usually unintentionally rude, he's a fast learner. As Qui-Gon had anticipated. So it'll be a little while until he is experienced enough to become a Padawan. However, he is to stay with Qui-Gon until a spot opens up in the bunks of the creche. Plus, it's for the best that he be around a more familiar face while he becomes used to the Jedi Temple, and their way of life. 

_Anakin._ The Council had made it abundantly clear that it would be his duty alone to train him, as he had brought him here (and the underlying, accusatory _and your former apprentice just died, so of course you must take another_ _immediately_ is hurtful). However the thought of training Anakin lifts his spirits, if only slightly. And then guilt floods Qui-Gon. How can it be so soon after losing Obi-Wan and he's thinkingabout training someone else? 

But this is the _Chosen One,_ he argues with himself. He will bring balance to the Force. Of course he must be trained. 

Then why does it twist in his gut? Why does every part of him scream that this is _wrong_? Obi-Wan is dead, and he would want his old master to move on, wouldn't he? 

But then- it isn't as if Qui-Gon can ignore how Obi-Wan cried for him, for his nightmares. How he _apologized_ for being the cause and center of them, when he couldn't even fathom being able to control dreams. The way Obi-Wan had trusted him enough to tell him of his thoughts, of his brief intentions to leave both him and the Jedi behind. It isn't as if Qui-Gon can ignore how he felt about his apprentice, and all the ways he had tried to show it, whether in lingering touches and glances and compliments or the occasional gift. And then there was the rare, but no less, twisting, irrational jealousy whenever another Padawan got too close or a visiting dignitary flirted with Obi-Wan in their over-the-top language of courtly romance. Even though he knew it would never, _could_ never be reciprocated. 

The vision is disturbing. But if it had said one thing. If he's going to take anything away from it. It could be the suggestion that Obi-Wan is _alive_. 

* * *

This club _reeks_ of sweat and alcohol, Obi-Wan thinks as they walk in, he and Jay and Cole. Angel isn't allowed in, of course, being only fifteen. But the other three are all old enough to get in, and so here they are, pressed up against the metal bar. The music is _loud,_ the bass making glasses on the counter vibrate. The song is some guy singing about someone wanting to him to forget them, and Jay nods along to it. 

"Oh, I know that guy!" Jay shouts in Obi-Wan's ear, pressing up against him and pointing at the bartender at the other end of the bar. 

"Sure," Cole rolls his eyes, signaling for a drink. "You always 'know a guy'." To the bartender- "Just a whiskey, please." The guy nods, winks at Jay, and goes about filling a glass. 

"See, I do know him!" the black haired man insists, snagging Cole's glass before the bartender can hand it to him, and taking a sip. "Ugh, Cole, seriously. How do you even _drink_ this stuff?" 

"'Cause it's _my_ drink," he takes it back from Jay and takes a pull of his own. "Obi-Wan, you can go out and dance, or whatever. Whatever you want. Jay's picking up the tab, anyway." 

"Yeah, yeah, it's my turn, I know," Jay grumbles, shoving Cole lightly. "But yeah, man. Go have fun," he shrugs and orders another drink, some bright blue cocktail. "Just don't go home with anybody." He winks. "We're takin' off tomorrow." Obi-Wan rolls his eyes and steps away from the bar, into the throng of humans and aliens dancing. And immediately trips over some female alien's dress and falls. 

However before he hits the floor, strong arms grip him, pulling him up, and a deep, smooth voice from above says-

"Steady on there, doll."

Obi-Wan looks up, grasping the human's forearms tightly as they steady him. The guy is _tall._ He's wearing black jeans, a white t-shirt that hugs his (really, _really_ broad) chest and shoulders, and a black leather jacket over it. His face is handsome, angular and skin tanned. He's got short black hair and a little bit of scruff. And the first thought that runs through Obi-Wan's head is that he would absolutely let this man pin him up against the nearest wall. A jolt of guilt slices through him- _what about Qui-Gon_? 

_Well, Qui-Gon isn't here. So it doesn't matter._

"H-Hey," he stutters, and the man's face splits in a grin. 

"Hey." And his _voice,_ oh god. It's low and rich and he could be saying anything right now, but if he said it like _that_ Obi-Wan would listen. "I'm Brock." 

"Obi-Wan," he manages, without stuttering, thank the Force. 

"You wanna get a drink, sweetheart?" Brock purrs, and Obi-Wan definitely doesn't say no. 

* * *

The Force must be trying to tell Qui-Gon something, because right in the middle of having lunch with Mace in his quarters (they're discussing the details of Obi-Wan's funeral, a topic that Qui-Gon has been desperately trying to avoid. It's barely been a day, for the love of the Force, why the rush) a vision hits him and overwhelms his senses. 

It's not the nightmare vision from the night before- it's something different. A mix of sights, and smells, and the bitter taste of alcohol on his tongue. He stops in the middle of his sentence and grasps at the images, Obi-Wan's kohl-rimmed eyes and a deep voice asking if he wants a drink. Distorted pictures of the man from the visions, six months ago, and another man standing beside him, colored lights and thrumming music. 

"Qui-Gon?" Mace asks, and he shakes his head to clear the vision from his head. As much as he'd like to dwell on this, what this means, he has a conversation to uphold with Mace. Who, apparently, is having none of his distractability. "What's going on in there?" 

"Nothing of importance," he answers, picking up his fork and going back to his meal. Mace just gently grabs his hand, forcing him to put the fork down. 

"I know this is difficult," Mace says quietly. "But we have to get it over with. Padawan Kenobi-" 

"Obi-Wan." It bursts out completely unbidden, and his friend blinks once, looking confused. 

"Pardon?" 

"His name was _Obi-Wan_ ," Qui-Gon says, and his forcefulness seems to shock Mace. 

"I know," he says quietly. "You haven't spoken to anyone about it since. Not the healers, not me, not-" 

"He died _yesterday_ , Mace, did you think I would just-" he retorts. 

"No, but I just want to make sure that you _do._ At _some_ point. You're empathetic, Qui-Gon. You feel emotions strongly, and form attachments quickly, which can sometimes work directly against you." _Like after Xanatos_ is the unspoken end to the sentence that both of them can sense. The Jedi Master tries, unsuccessfully, to hide his flinch. 

"I was his master for twelve years," Qui-Gon says, keeping his tone as calm as possible. "Twelve _years._ Of course there was going to be attachment." 

Windu sighs. "Yes. Well- I can see this is a touchy subject for you-" Qui-Gon snorts, _of course_ it is- "So we'll discuss it later. Take your time grieving, Qui-Gon." And with that, Mace gets up and leaves. 

Qui-Gon stands, placing their dishes in the sink. He goes to the corner of the living area with his meditation cushion. His and Obi-Wan's, which doesn't help his mood. But bending down and moving it, putting it away, seems like _too much too soon,_ so he doesn't. He sits on his own cushion and closes his eyes, reaching into the Force for some clarity on the entire situation. 

And, on an almost uncontrollable whim that doesn't _quite_ feel like his own, Qui-Gon reaches out to the shattered remains of his bond with his dead Padawan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jesus. someone get ALL these characters therapy PLEASE. also, mace is here! i love him. purple laser sword man!! i'll stop cause i'm annoying. 
> 
> btw, here's the spotify playlist again because i add new songs to it all the time. most of the songs do relate to obi-wan and qui-gon's relationship, but the first four are theme songs for the negotiator crew. maybe at some point i'll do a "playlist deep dive" and explain why each song is there. idk.  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2RAdBBlHTQ4ke477q3zeHT
> 
> anyway, leave a comment/kudos if you liked this! they make me aSCEND


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The phantom emotions and visions continue to haunt Qui-Gon, so he decides to take matters into his own hands and find out who the people in the visions are.
> 
> At the same time, low on money, the crew of the Negotiator take a smuggling job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! welcome to another chapter! 
> 
> this is actually my, what- third time writing these chapter notes? the archive was being wonky but this time! this time this is it! 
> 
> quick chapter cw/tw for a very brief, passing mention of obi-wan with someone who isn't qui-gon, if that sort of thing bothers you. also some suggestive language (but not directed at obi-wan so you're good there). 
> 
> have fun!!

Obi-Wan wakes to Jay yelling at the top of his lungs, nursing the worst headache ever. 

"Rise and shine, ya little shits! Get up! Face the music! Let's g-" 

"Shut _up_!" Angel shouts from her quarters, cutting him off. Jay laughs loudly and keeps shouting. Obi-Wan huffs out a laugh and throws back the covers, shivering as the cool air hits his skin. He's dressed in the same outfit from last night, minus the boots and the eyeliner. Angel had said something about keeping makeup on at night is bad for the skin, and Obi-Wan hadn't wanted to risk it. 

Last night. Brock had bought him a drink (or five) and they'd made out in the corner of the club when they weren't dancing. At the end of the night, when Cole had to drag Jay out of the bar (he'd almost started a fight), Obi-Wan went with them, and Brock had whispered him that he was a regular at that club. And that, should Obi-Wan ever return, he'd have a place in Brock's bed. He'd flushed an absolute beet red and stuttered out a goodbye. 

When they'd boarded the ship, Cole had set the autopilot to a nearby system on the way to his quarters. So Obi-Wan guesses that's where they are now. He walks to the mirror, running a hand through his hair. Examining himself, he shrugs and thinks maybe Angel was right- he _should_ grow his hair out. He imagines it long enough that it brushes over his forehead and he can tuck it behind his ear, short on the sides and longer in the front. 

Jay's still yelling, so he pulls on his boots and walks out to the lounge where Cole is trying to shut up the other man with caff. Angel walks out a moment later, hair sticking up all over the place. She flips Jay off casually and snatches his caff. 

"You little-" he grins and takes it back. It almost escalates into a full-blown tug-of-war, but Cole steps in and downs the rest of it before either of them can grab it back. 

"Cole!" Angel shrieks. 

" _Angel_!" he screeches right back. Jay rolls his eyes and asks Obi-Wan if he wants caff too. He nods, and silently drinks until he feels awake enough for conversation. 

"Alright, you guys," Jay pulls out a datapad and places it on the table. Everyone sits on the sofa and peers over at it. "We have a job. Since we blew our cash at that club last night paying our tab-" 

" _Our_ tab?" Angel snorts. 

"Yeah, _our_. I saw you try to sneak in," he smirks. She flushes and looks down at the table as Cole snickers. "Anyway. We got an offer. Smuggling drugs from a dealer on Corellia to this Outer Rim moon-" he looks back at the datapad. "Nar Shaddaa." 

"Nar _Shaddaa_?" Her head shoots up. "That's a hub of criminal activity _a_ _nd_ it's controlled by the Hutts. Who are notorious crime lords." 

"Exactly," Jay says. "We do this right, we've got brownie points with the Hutts, and more jobs if we need them." 

Obi-Wan frowns. "It's one of the most dangerous places in the galaxy." 

"Yeah," Cole shrugs, "But it's like Jay said- we could always use more contacts." 

"And besides," Angel adds. "We have a whole crate full of blasters and bombs and shit hidden in here somewhere. So we're in no danger of not being able to defend ourselves." 

Obi-Wan nods, finishing his caff. "Alright, then. What are you getting paid for this?" 

Cole shoots him a questioning look. " _We're_ getting..." he leans over and swipes at the datapad. "10,000 credits if we do it fast and don't get caught." 

The copper-haired boy smiles at the display of inclusivity. "Sounds good." 

Jay stands. "Then it's decided. We take the job." 

"I'll set our coordinates for Corellia," Cole says, standing up as well. "It won't be long, so everybody suit up." 

"Make sure you've got-" Jay starts. 

"Make sure you've got 'weapons out the wazoo', yeah, you say it every time," Angel drawls, and starts walking to her quarters. Obi-Wan starts laughing, and Jay says something about slander and feeding her to the Hutts. 

* * *

Qui-Gon wakes to a feeling of amusement that is distinctly not his own. 

He is confused as ever by these emotions that aren't his. He doesn't know who they could belong to- Obi-Wan is dead, and his end of the bond with him. His attempts at reopening the bond between himself and Obi-Wan haven't gone to plan, mostly because there _is_ no bond to _open_. All he's been met with are dead ends, cold and unyielding. 

But he wants to know more, so in an attempt to find out who the other people are from his vision (because they wouldn't be there if they weren't important, right?), Qui-Gon goes to the archives. The black haired man seems oddly familiar, although he can't exactly place why or how. In all the scenes he was shown he and Obi-Wan seemed to be close, or close enough. Whether this means they had been close in the past or would become closer later is guesswork. 

On the way, he spots another master, a brown-haired human in dark brown robes. He's Alexei Lokar, who lost his own Padawan four years ago. One of the only Padawans whose kyber crystal wasn't blue or green, the boy had harvested a dark yellow, almost golden crystal. Like Qui-Gon, Lokar, at first, resisted taking him on as his apprentice, mostly because of how the boy often couldn't control his stronger emotions and opinions. But he eventually relented, and began their training. 

But something happened between them, something between when the boy was taken on, at 13, and when he turned 21. When he was 21, a few people had witnessed the very end of a shouting match between them, and saw both of them storm off in opposite directions. Lokar had gone straight to the Council, arguing that his apprentice could not possibly be a Jedi. There was too much turmoil in him and he had "no control over his emotions", in his master's own words. When the Council did not immediately grant him the transfer, stating that they would think on it, he walked out. And over the next week, the Temple was buzzing, about the Jedi apprentice who would undoubtedly turn dark. Qui-Gon had had his suspicions that those rumors had been started by Lokar himself. 

The boy disappeared three days later, notably taking his lightsaber with him. He has become a story that younglings are told, a lesson of how tempting the dark side can be. That part angers Qui-Gon the most.

He takes a breath to calm himself. Now that he's remembering it, he recalls that he and Obi-Wan had been good friends, the two of them and Bant Eerin. So he walks over to the other master, if only to learn more about someone important to his former Padawan. 

"Master Lokar, it is good to see you," he greets him. 

Lokar dips his head to Qui-Gon. "It is good to see you as well, Master Jinn. I've heard of the events on Naboo. I'm deeply sorry for your loss." 

"Thank you," he replies. They descend into a mundane conversation of missions past, until Lokar excuses himself. Qui-Gon watches him go. 

This hunch might be a place to start. He walks deeper into the archives, determined to find the name of Lokar's apparently fallen Padawan. 

* * *

We touch down on Corellia about an hour later.

Angel's helped Obi-Wan suit up, and he's in a dark grey shirt with longer sleeves that reach his elbows, and the same black pants and boots from last night. She's put the kohl on him again and has given him a pair of fingerless gloves. Over the shirt he wears a black, sleeveless denim jacket. 

"I like your new look, man," I grin at him, walking over and tugging, real light, at his Padawan braid. "Man, I wonder how _my_ old master is." 

Obi-Wan, who's been adjusting his gloves, looks up quickly, a wary look in his eyes. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah," I say wistfully. "I hope he's dead." 

Cole, with his blaster in his hip holster (and probably at least three knives in his boots), walks out, cracking a smile at us. Angel follows, in a black hoodie and jeans. "You all ready?" he asks. 

My stomach flips a little, but I swallow hard and shove it down, not letting myself wonder what it means. "Yeah. What do you say we head out, huh?" 

In no time, we're locking up the ship and walking down the streets of Coronet City, the capital of Corellia. I look over and Obi-Wan's got his lightsaber just _out_ on his belt. I reach across and tuck it into his jacket with a meaningful look. You never show any sign that you're a Jedi, or anything like them unless you absolutely have to, anywhere in the galaxy. It's often a deadly mistake. Me, I always carry mine in my jacket or I just don't bring it at all. But I've never had to bring it out before. 

It's raining, and the sky is cloudy and dark, which I hear Angel grumbling about behind me. Corellia used to have a royal family, but the throne's been empty for a while now. The planet's backsliding, especially as trade and power shifts to other planets. Now it's just another washed-up place, filled with poverty, crime, and too many dreamers but not enough dreams to go around. But if you look around, you can see the city, the _planet_ this used to be. Corellia's got a lot of history, good stories, the like. It really is too bad the place is a shithole. 

"Alright, down here," I say after a while, heading down a short flight of concrete stairs. We're in Diadem Square, in the downtown area of Coronet City. Pushing open the door at the bottom, we walk into a sprawling underground club. It's starkly different from the surface- there are flashing lights, in multiple colors, and aliens and humans alike are sitting at the bar. One, possibly the only similarity among them all is that they're all heavily armed. Music is blaring, from a live band, and it's impossible to tell what time it is since there are no windows and no clocks. 

"Where _are_ we?" Angel breathes. 

"This is the Lotus Club," I say quietly. "And we're looking for- there." I jerk my chin toward a dark-skinned man in all black sprawled in a booth, drink in hand. "Him." 

We make our way over to him, and he smirks at me as we get closer. I know him- he gave me one of my first jobs (and a little more than that, too, if you know what I mean). He's Anthony Carmine, notorious Corellian smuggler. 

"Well, well, well. The boss didn't tell me it'd be little Jaybird comin' to see me," Carmine drawls, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. His dark gaze makes it impossible to look away, the spread of his body practically invites your attention. He's pretty muscular, an absolute _beefcake_ of a man. His dreads are well-done, as they always are, and the lights glint off of his silver nose ring as he angles his head toward us. 

I grin and try not to look like an idiot. "And they didn't tell me I'd be seeing you either, Carmine. How come I keep running into you, huh?" 

"We know each other a little too well for formalities, don't you think?" He smirks and gestures for me to sit down. I flush as I do, ignoring how small this booth seems now that I'm actually sitting in it. "Who's your company?" 

I look back at the other three. Angel's face is impassive, not giving much away. Her posture says she doesn't trust this, though. Cole's not looking at us, jaw clenched, arms folded. Obi-Wan wears a blank expression, but unlike Angel's, it's not inherently defensive. He is easily the most unassuming of all of us. Carmine's eyes are on him longer than the other two. 

"You remember Cole," I say, gesturing at him. "That's Angel, our mechanic. And-" 

"Ben," Obi-Wan smiles, dipping his head. I look up, unable to keep the shocked expression off my face. He just looks at me, and I quickly follow his lead. 

"Ben," I repeat. 

"You always were one for pickin' up strays," Carmine says, voice pitched lower than is technically necessary. I shiver despite myself. 

"We come in handy," Angel inserts herself. His gaze flicks to her, and then back to me. 

"That is true," he concedes. "Now, Jaybird, what're you here for?" 

I frown. "You know what." 

"I know," he says, eyes dark and a wicked smile pulling at his lips. "I just wanna hear you _say it_." 

My face flushes again. Goddammit. Unbidden images of the last time we saw each other flood my mind- the ripple of his muscles and his deep voice in my ear, our skin sliding together- I have to stop. But his words from back then echo now- _I want to hear you say it._

"The job," I force out. Hopefully my voice isn't as shaky as I hear it. From his smirk, it absolutely is. "The smuggling job." 

"Ah, yes," he says, smile widening. "You're still in that junk heap of a ship?" 

My eyes narrow. "Yes." 

"Then-" Carmine flicks his fingers at two burly aliens. They get up and leave the club. "You'll find the boxes outside it, then." 

"Thank you," I say, nodding. 

"Anytime, Jay," he purrs. "Anytime." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *thinks about prequels to this* 
> 
> anyway, somebody take these damn chapter notes away from me, i'm having too much fun with them. somehow i always end up on tangents that i didn't actually mean to start when i write them lmao. 
> 
> anyway, leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed! they send me into ORBIT (literally i get so excited when someone leaves a comment or kudos. maybe i put too much stock into shit i put on the internet, but whatever)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jay, Cole, Angel and Obi-Wan (and the Tusk cat) complete the job, and Angel begins working with her new lightsaber. 
> 
> At the same time, Anthony Carmine may know more than he lets on about the newest member of the crew of the Negotiator, and Qui-Gon Jinn is becoming more sure than ever that Lokar's fallen apprentice holds the key to the Force visions that haunt him. However, Mace Windu has other ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i *am trying* not to have the pacing be an incredible mess (although it probably already is), so we might be drawing things out a little more. time skips and whatever. 
> 
> anyway, we got some exciting shit in here, we finally touch down on nar shaddaa and qui-gon is... a mess. featuring the tusk cat that we havent seen for a few chapters! (like two but whatever) 
> 
> no specific tw/cw's for this chapter, just the usual blanket ones. 
> 
> starting out with qui-gon and then over to jay, and then- who knows? (edit: still jay lmao)

_James Allister Siska._

The name stares back at him, black letters on a white background.

So this is Lokar's apprentice. _Was_ Lokar's apprentice, rather, but Qui-Gon can't bring himself to care about the technicalities for the moment. 

Now that he's looking at the boy's file, at his picture, he remembers him. He and Obi-Wan were close in the creche, and they had stayed tight throughout their respective apprenticeships. And when Siska left the Order, Obi-Wan's attitude towards him shifted- whenever someone brought him up, he would (very smoothly- Qui-Gon hadn't even noticed before now) change the subject. And when Qui-Gon had asked if he knew anything about Siska's disappearance, since they _were_ best friends, Obi-Wan had shaken his head and said he hadn't known a thing. 

Qui-Gon thinks, now, that maybe he was lying. 

The file says that the boy is missing, presumed dead. There's a lot of missing information, probably courtesy of Lokar himself. Thinking back now, there is so much that Qui-Gon had just _missed_ about their relationship. They truly had not been a good pair, as master and apprentice. 

_The way I once thought about my partnership with Obi-Wan._ _I was almost as bad with him as Lokar was with James._

These thoughts had always haunted him, ever since he'd accepted Obi-Wan as his apprentice years before. He was afraid. So afraid of letting the little boy in front of him down. And he had, in so many ways. He had disappointed Obi-Wan over and over again, and the most recent examples that come to his mind are his claiming of Anakin Skywalker in front of the Council, and letting a Sith kill _his boy_. 

Obi-Wan had grown up right in front of his eyes, and Qui-Gon always thought himself to be a lecher whenever he noticed his apprentice's broad shoulders and bright smile. It was as if the day Obi-Wan turned twenty Qui-Gon could no longer deny that he thought his Padawan was attractive. Unfairly attractive, with a sharp wit and a bright presence in the Force to match. But Qui-Gon had always had a tendency to feel things strongly, and he had always been worried that it would turn Obi-Wan away. 

Now he just wishes he had let himself feel those things. Maybe Obi-Wan would have understood. But there's no way to know now. 

And studying his former Padawan's old friend now, looking at the picture, he realizes that this boy is the same one from both visions. A little younger here, but he is indisputably the same person. 

Mace walks into the archives some _amount of time_ later, Qui-Gon hasn't exactly been keeping track. 

"Qui-Gon," he says, voice and face serious. "You need to sleep." 

Deep down he knows his friend is right, but how can he sleep knowing he's on the cusp of something? No, he doesn't know what that thing _is_ just yet, but he's getting closer. He can _feel_ it. Somehow Lokar's apprentice holds the key to uncovering the meaning of these visions. 

"I'm working on something," he replies carelessly, scouring files for any information on Lokar and Siska's partnership. Anything from Siska's initiate years all the way to when the boy left the Order, at 21. 

"Working on what, exactly?" 

"I've been having visions," Qui-Gon puts down the datapad and turns to Mace. 

Mace's brow furrows. "You just lost your apprentice, Qui-Gon. Of course you would be having unpleasant dreams." 

"They're _visions_ ," he insists. "I've never seen them before. Not the events, nor the people." 

"You need _sleep_ ," the other master presses. "You may investigate your visions _after_ you get some rest." 

"Fine," Qui-Gon concedes after a moment. "Alright." 

"And you might want to check up on your soon-to-be apprentice," Mace throws over his shoulder. "The creche masters say he's been making good progress in basic meditation." 

* * *

"So, _Ben_?" I ask Obi-Wan on the way back to the ship. Cole's being a dick and won't say two words to me- we'll need to talk about that. But I want to know about _this_ first. 

"Yeah," he says, absentmindedly scratching at the nape of his neck. "An old friend called me that, a few years ago." 

I think on it for a moment. "Why'd you use it, back there?" 

"It sounded better," Obi-Wan shrugs. "You all have these monosyllable names. Jay, Cole, Angel. I didn't want to be the odd one out." 

"You're the Jedi here," I snark, "You _are_ the odd one out. But, like- in a good way, y'know?" I suspect that the monosyllable names aren't the whole reason for his name change, but I'm not about to ask. It's his business. If he wants to tell me, he can, but I won't press, y'know? 

"'M not a Jedi anymore," he says quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets. He's looking at his boots, scuffing the toes against the pavement. 

"You're more Jedi than any of us," I say, lowering my voice to match his. "Hey, man, listen." He looks over at me. "I meant it, what I said at the bar a couple months back. The Dark Side wouldn't touch ya with a ten foot pole, if that's what you're worried about. Hell, if you wanted to go back, I wouldn't- _we_ wouldn't blame you. They'd take you back, you know that." 

"It's not the Dark Side I'm-" Obi-Wan gestures. "On about. And yes, I miss everyone at the Temple. But I made my choice. This is what I want." 

"Then what- if you don't mind me asking- _are_ you- 'on' about?" 

"I keep getting this nagging feeling that I've overlooked something," the copper-haired man explains. "That I'm missing something." I nudge his shoulder with mine as he continues. "And I'm... sad," he whispers.

"Well, yeah," I murmur, staying close. "You just left everything and everyone you knew to be a smuggler, Obi-Wan. Of course you are." 

"I miss him," Obi-Wan says, voice raw. He turns to me and his bright blue-green eyes are glassy with unshed tears. "I shouldn't miss him. Not after what happened. Not after what he did." 

"You spent what, twelve years of your life with him?" I say. "Of course you miss him." 

If there's one thing I know about Obi-Wan, it's that he's probably the most selfless person I've ever known. He's kind and quick to forgive, always wanting to see the best in people. And why should it be any different for his old master? His old master that he loves, and has loved for years? 

"Does it ever get easier?" he asks quietly. 

My head jerks up. I hadn't expected the question. "It does," I say. "It takes a while, and a lot of work, but it gets easier. Of course," I laugh dryly, barely any humor in my voice, "It's easier when you hate the guy to begin with." 

"Yes," he nods. "I guess it is." 

"Y'know," I say after a few moments of silence. "If you wanted to completely scrap the Jedi thing, we could call you Ben. Like- all the time." 

Obi-Wan smirks. "Like how everyone calls you Jay, but _I_ know you're _James_?" 

"Hey, shut up," I complain goodnaturedly, "Jay sounds cooler." 

"Alright, somebody's gonna help me get these inside, 'cause I'm not throwing my back out trying to do it by myself," we hear Cole yell from in front of us. 

"Yeah, yeah," I shout back. 

"I'll think about it," Obi-Wan smiles at me. 

"Cool," I nod, grinning back, and then going to help Cole load the boxes into the _Negotiator_. 

"Good of you to help out," he grunts, pushing a box to the side in the small cargo hold. 

"I know," I say, trying not to raise to the bait that this conversation very obviously is. After a few minutes of silence, though, I can't help it. "Okay, fucking _spill._ You've been acting like a dick ever since we left that club." 

"No, I haven't," he says defensively. 

"Well, what do you wanna call _this_ dazzling display of immaturity?" I demand. 

"I don't trust Anthony Carmine, okay?" he turns and snaps at me. "I don't trust him. Something is off about him. And you want to talk about immaturity? How about the fact that as soon as he opened his _mouth_ you were blushing and stuttering like a schoolgirl, huh?" 

I flush (probably beet red) and clench my fists. "Shut up," I hiss. "Shut up. If I didn't know any better I'd think you were jealous." 

To my surprise, Cole just looks away, sporting a blush of his own. "Well, I'm not. I just don't trust him, and if he screws us over because you were too busy staring at him to notice, I'll be blaming you." 

This just pisses me off more. " _Fuck you_." 

He turns, expression a mix of confusion and anger. 

"Fuck you, alright?" I snarl. "If Carmine screws us over- which I don't even know how he would! But if he does, it wouldn't be my fuckin' fault, okay? I trust you, and Angel, and Obi-Wan to _also_ notice when things go pear-shaped. So if I'm the only one who would know that he's messing with us, I must be _dead_ wrong to put my trust in you like that." 

Cole is silent. I walk over to the door angrily to go get the last of the boxes, but he quickly stops me, saying- 

"Wait." 

I turn. 

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "That was a dick move. I- he just gives me bad vibes and I don't like that we have to have anything to do with him whatsoever." 

I cross my arms over my chest and let out a sigh. "It's fine. But look, this is only one job and then we're done, okay? We won't have to deal with him again. There are, like, a million smuggling jobs in the galaxy that don't include him." 

"True," he concedes. "Alright. Let's just get this done." 

"See, now you're thinking clearer," I crack a grin and shove the last box onboard. "Okay!" I yell towards the front of the ship. "We all in?" I hear a resounding shout of "yes" from Angel and Obi-Wan. "Alright then!" I call back. "Cole, my man, you go set the course for wherever-"

"Nar Shaddaa," Cole rolls his eyes.

"Shut up." I point at him, and he snickers as he makes his way to the cockpit. "And would somebody _please_ check to see if there's any beer on board?" 

We're landing before we know it. Angel and Obi-Wan are discussing the merits of changing his name, which doesn't surprise me. Angel is easy to talk to, and understands a lot about the galaxy despite her age. Sometimes we forget she's only fifteen. Cole is trying to get over his fear of the Naboo Tusk cat that's still in our ship, prowling around and sleeping most of the time. 

"Come on, man, he's kind of cute," I say, and Cole glares over at me. I snicker. 

"He could eat us all," he says through gritted teeth. I just shake my head and laugh again. 

"If he wanted to, he probably already would have," I point out but choose to leave the topic. The cat actually seems to like Cole, and is brushing up against him as he flinches like he's going to be run through with one of the cat's large tusks. 

The ship shudders to a stop in space, and Cole takes that opportunity to jump up and go to the cockpit. 

"Going in for a landing!" he yells, and pilots the ship down through Nar Shaddaa's atmosphere. Angel's peering out the window and making jokes about the Hutts to Obi-Wan. I just make sure I've got my blaster in its place. 

"Remember," I instruct everyone. "Nobody pulls a lightsaber unless it's life or death, yeah?" 

"Right," Obi-Wan nods seriously. 

"Fine," Angel sighs. "When am I gonna fight someone with this, though?" she plucks the dead Sith's double-bladed lightsaber from her belt and twirls it between her fingers. Obi-Wan's eyes widen. She looks over and grins. "Yeah, I've got one too." She flicks the buttons and her two red blades cast her face in a dark glow. 

"It's not that," Obi-Wan whispers. "That's-" 

"A Sith's weapon? We know," Cole drawls. "It fell in with you when we caught you back on Naboo. She wanted it, though, so," he shrugs. 

"You can feel the darkness rolling off it if you touch it," I add. 

"The Sith was a Zabrak, wasn't he?" Angel asks Obi-Wan. He pales, nodding. "Then the vision was right." 

"Vision?" 

"I touched the saber and it showed me a bit of the battle you and the other Jedi had with him," she explains. "Cole says it's a Force thing, but with all objects. It only happened once, with this, with me." 

Obi-Wan opens his mouth but I quickly insert myself before we get too distracted. "Alright, alright. Let's head on out, okay? We can figure this out after we deliver these." I gesture to the boxes. "Obi-Wan, if they ask-" 

"Ben," he nods. 

"Sounds good," I snap my fingers, trying to remember anything I've forgotten. "Looks like we're all good. Cole, we at the coordinates we were sent?" 

"Yeah," he says. "The loading bay of the dealer's place. Hide your valuables." 

"Well, we've got the cat here to scare off anybody, don't we?" I snort. "But yeah, hide your shit. Let's get it done." We open the cargo hold and leave the ship as I tune into the comm frequency we've been given to alert the dealer to our presence. 

"Sweet _stars,_ it smells like dirt," Angel mumbles. "And gasoline. And smoke. And other unpleasant things." 

"Well, this isn't exactly a pleasant planet," I retort. "Now hush, I've got a call to make." I flick on the commlink. "Is this Ragnos?" 

A scratchy, guttural voice replies. "Yeah. This Siska?" 

"Yes, sir," I say, looking back at Angel, Cole and Obi-Wa- well, _Ben_. "And the crew. We've got your merchandise in the loading bay." I wait a moment. No reply, so I assume he's coming. 

"The crew, you said?" the same voice, just less staticky, comes from a tall, gangly alien with webbed hands and feet, and green-tinted skin. 

"Yes sir," I repeat. The alien just shrugs and goes to the cargo hold, rummaging in one of the boxes. When it's clear he's satisfied, he stands back and hands me a stack of Republic credits. I count them swiftly to make sure everything's in order, and everything is. 

"Run into any trouble on the way?" the alien that I've just remembered the name of, _Ragnos_ , asks. 

"No sir." 

He hums. "Polite. I like that." 

I dip my head, "Thank you, sir." 

Ragnos whistles for a few droids to unload the boxes, which they do quickly. "Good doin' business with youse," he says. 

"You too," I say, and nod for everyone else to get on the ship. I'm the last one aboard. Cheers fill the cabin as I close up the hold and Cole pilots us off Nar Shaddaa. 

"How much'd we make?" Angel calls. 

"I counted. 40,000," I shout back, climbing up into the lounge. "We're all good." 

"Good, 'cause we need more fuel, and fast," Cole says. 

"Isn't there a station or somethin' in this system?" I ask. 

"Yeah," he nods, and presses a few buttons on the console of the ship's navigational system. "Alright. Course is set for the nearest one." 

I turn around to see Obi-Wan and Angel poring over the lightsaber, and something on Angel's datapad. They both look up, but Obi-Wan is the first to speak. 

"I'm not sure how Angel managed to see the history of the lightsaber," he says. "It _is_ a dark weapon." He pauses and closes his eyes for a moment. I feel the Force moving around him, swirling around Angel. A look around confirms that everyone else feels it too. His eyes open. "And there's not a lot of dark in you that I can sense." 

"No," Angel mutters. "Wait. Jay. Don't kyber crystals choose their user?" 

Obi-Wan and I nod together. "That's how you get the crystal for a lightsaber," I say. 

"What if that's why?" she asks. "What if _these_ crystals chose _me_?" 

"I've never heard of it," Obi-Wan mumbles after a moment, exchanging a look with me. 

"It'd be super sick, if that's what happened," I say. 

"Yeah," she says, picking up the dead Sith's lightsaber and holding it in both hands. Her voice is quiet with wonder. She stands, looking around at the rest of us, at me, at Obi-Wan, and at Cole, who's been watching this exchange quietly. 

"I think I should try and figure this out," she nods to herself, and walks into her quarters, the door closing with a soft _snick_ behind her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm looking at how many chapters this might have... and i'm still not sure. whoops. i'll figure it out once i have a clear, coherent idea for the plot ahead. hooray for not planning ahead! 
> 
> okay one thing i love about this chapter is ANGEL and her interactions with maul's lightsaber. because i have a plan for her, and for the saber, and it's going to be epic. think ahsoka tano type shit. 
> 
> anyway, i forgot to put this here before, because it's in the google doc, but i wanna be hella clear about obi-wan pre and post the time skip we'll end up having. this be the link: https://soft-bi-punk.tumblr.com/post/635532934845202432/yall-can-ignore-this-its-for-a-fic-obi-wan
> 
> leave a comment/kudos, cause i thrive on interaction. also- thanks to everyone who's stuck around long enough for this, like this is more than 10k words of gay space pirates, and you guys are awesome. 
> 
> (btw: the next chapter might be a little late bc thanksgiving and whatnot, but it'll be out! love you guys <3)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Negotiator crew are offered a deal too good to pass up, even though passing it up would probably the best decision. Angel and Obi-Wan team up to try and figure out how to work with Darth Maul's lightsaber, but Angel's got questions she wants answered. And also seems intent on giving the ex-Jedi a makeover. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Qui-Gon Jinn has just discovered that James Siska isn't dead. 
> 
> He's a smuggler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i totally forgot to say this last time, but happy thanksgiving if you celebrate it! sorry that this is a bit late, thanksgiving and family got in the way of writing. 
> 
> this chapter has some plot. *some*. just some. but i promise it's going somewhere! also the line "james isnt dead hes a smuggler" made me cackle for no apparent reason. just- idk. 
> 
> quick cw/tw for another passing mention of trafficking, but that's it. 
> 
> we start in- whoa shit- ANGEL'S pov because our girl DESERVES IT, obi-wan's, and then qui's. have fun, you guys!

"As far as I can tell, there's no precedent for kyber crystals choosing another user. And there's certainly none for trying to purify corrupted crystals used by a Sith," Obi-Wan says, scrolling through his datapad, but looking up and over at me. 

It's been a couple days since Nar Shaddaa. The Tusk Cat that we still don't have a name for is sleeping, draped over the back of the sofa like the world's heaviest throw blanket. Jay's been practicing his Jedi shit, either in his room or out here. Meditation and katas and things, and that's what he's doing now, hidden away in his room. Cole is up in the cockpit. We're on autopilot to some friendly planet far away from the Jedi that I've forgotten the name of, so we can stop and spend a few nights in a nice hotel or something. We do have 40,000 credits to blow, after all. 

I haven't meditated or anything in a while. I haven't needed to. I don't think I've used the Force, at least not consciously, since I was an Initiate, and I haven't had a lightsaber or anything to practice with (unless Jay gave me his, which, again, hasn't happened in a bit). But now I do, and the pull of what might be the Force that I felt as a youngling is back in full force, tugging at me. It's irritating. What shuts it up sometimes is the Sith lord's lightsaber. 

I don't understand it. Jay, Cole and Obi-Wan had held the thing and all of them reported darkness, flowing off of it and invading their senses. And none of them had felt the tug, the _pull_ to it that I had. It wasn't darkness that I felt when I held the lightsaber- well, it _was_ but it wasn't _bad_ darkness. It was more like the thing was covered in the Dark Side of the Force, but underneath was something good. 

But now, now that Cole and Jay are out of the way, it's just Obi-Wan and I trying to figure out what using this lightsaber will mean for me, and why it called to me in the first place. Our best bet is the crystals, and that they themselves chose me to use them. 

Obi-Wan. The former Jedi Padawan who left the Order under mysterious circumstances. The man who reeks of sadness and loss, according to Cole. The man who really is too _good_ to be a smuggler, according to me. Who is currently helping me take apart the saber and put it back together. 

The first night he was with us, Cole had talked to me. Cole's Force sensitive, like all of us, sent to Bandomeer, to the Jedi Service Corps, like me. What's different about us is that I was sent away because no master would take me as a Padawan. Cole was sent because he wasn't Force sensitive enough. However, he _is_ sensitive enough to read your emotions if you don't have good shields on you. Jay has good enough shields.. Mine are non-existent, simply because there isn't an emotion that I want to keep to myself. If Cole wants to pick through my emotions, he can go for it. 

_Cole had pulled me aside, whispering, "What's with him?" and jerked his chin towards the Jedi Padawan whose door had just closed._

_"What do you mean?"_

_"He's sad," he said. His brows were furrowed in confusion and pity. "I can feel it."_

_"Well, he did just ditch the Jedi," I'd shrugged._

_"No," Cole looked at me. "It's bigger than that." He narrowed his eyes and focused. "His shields are really good. Really strong. But what's leaking through is deeper than just being sad. He left something, or someone behind. It's loss."_

_"You know best," I said, rather dismissively._

_"I think Jay knows what it is," he said._

_I rolled my eyes, "Even if he does, I wouldn't pry if I were you. If Jay, or this Obi-Wan want to tell us what happened, they will."_

_"I wasn't going to pry," Cole said._

_"But you'd like to know."_

_"Duh," he'd shoved me lightly. "Whatever. I just want to know what the deal is."_

_"So do I," I said, stepping away and heading for my own quarters. "So do I."_

But the ex-Jedi apprentice is an enigma to me. Oh, he's nice- perfectly courteous, listens well. Attractive- and if I was into men, I'd appreciate that more, but I'm not. A crisp Coruscanti accent that you could take as snobbish if you don't actually listen to what he's saying. The thing is, it's that what Cole said to me a few days ago is sticking with me. _He left something, or someone behind._ And that _I think Jay knows what it is._

So me being me, and having awful impulse control (although where are my role models on that particular subject, I live with idiots), I ask about it. 

Tiny pockets of emotion flicker across Obi-Wan's face and in his eyes, sadness and shock among them. He clears his throat and fidgets with the datapad. 

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to," I rush to tell him. "I'm not- it's just that- I don't think I know why you joined us in the first place." 

"I- uh-" he stutters, but swallows hard and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, the emotions are gone. "I left the Jedi Order because my master wanted another apprentice." 

I frown. "You can only have one, though," I say, remembering the rule. 

"Exactly," he says. "He was willing to push me towards the trials of becoming a Knight. For a boy he found on Tatooine who he believes is the Chosen One." 

I tilt my head. "The Chosen One?" 

"The one from the prophecy, _born of no father_ and _will bring balance to the Force_ or whatever. I never studied those prophecies as well as my m- as Qui-Gon did." 

I don't point out his slip. It's not important. "And he just dropped you." 

"Yes. In front of the Jedi Council." 

"Wow," I lean back in my chair. "That- that's a real dick punch. Sorry, dude." 

He looks over and gives me a small smile. "Thanks." 

And that's when Jay bursts out of his quarters, holding his datapad and yelling-

"You guys, you _guys,_ you have to see this. Oh my god." 

Cole walks out of the cockpit and arches an eyebrow. "Is there a reason for the shouting?" 

"Yes!" Jay is almost vibrating with excitement. His eyes are wide as he shakes the datapad one more time. "We got a job." 

"A job," I deadpan. 

"Not _just_ a job," our illustrious captain says. "A _deal_. With the Hutts. We're gonna be one of _their_ smuggler crews." 

"You're joking." I say. Cole echoes the sentiment. 

"Not at all," he says, putting the thing down so we can look at it together. And- yeah, it's an offer from the Hutts on Nar Shaddaa to smuggle for them. In exchange, we'd get a pretty steady salary. And if one of us can- 

"Wait." Obi-Wan says it just as I think it. "The end. It says we can make more money by taking assassination jobs."

"Yeah," Jay says, looking at the bottom where the other man is pointing. "But we don't have to." 

"You kidding?" I say. "That's practically a demand." 

"It is," Cole nods. "If we sign on to this, we're going to have to kill whoever they ask us to." 

" _And_ we'll be known as smugglers throughout the galaxy," I point out. "They might ask us to drop the whole 'beating up traffickers' thing we've got going on. Which, I don't know about everyone else, but that would suck." 

"I know," Jay replies. "It's just that we could use the money." 

"A couple months then," Obi-Wan suggests. "Then we quit and go back to beating up traffickers." 

There's silence as everyone looks at each other.

"I say we do it," Cole says. "I don't trust the Hutts. They turn on all their allies at some point, but Jay _is_ right. We need the cash. And then we can quit and, I don't know, retire to a nice planet or something." 

"Dork," I snort. "But sure. I'll second that." Obi-Wan nods. 

Jay shrugs. "Then I guess we're decided. I'll tell the guy that we're doing this." 

* * *

When everyone disperses (read: Cole dragging Jay to the cockpit to talk over the decision ~~they~~ _we_ just made), Angel leads Obi-Wan into his quarters, looking around the place. He hasn't done much with it, hasn't had much time. He should maybe get a plant or something. 

"You're a real neat freak, aren't you?" Angel says, taking it all in. 

"I guess," Obi-Wan shrugs, feeling nervous for no apparent reason all of a sudden. 

"Hey, what's up with you?" she turns and asks, looking up at him. Her brown-eyed gaze pierces him in that way kids' eyes do- like they see everything, even if they don't understand it. "The thing from before?" 

How can he explain to her that this morning, right when he woke up, he felt an emotion that absolutely was not his? A feeling of drowsy pleasure that wasn't his own? 

He thought he'd done a decent enough job to keep Qui-Gon out, shut down their bond even though it hurt him so badly to do so. Apparently he hadn't, because if that wasn't his emotion, then the obvious conclusion to come to was that they were from his former master. 

The _bond,_ shit. He hasn't exactly been doing his research on broken bonds, especially not romantic ones. He'd never hoped for one with his master, and so he never looked into it. And besides, what was the point? Jedi aren't allowed to have romantic attachments, so why learn about them? 

But there _was_ one thing he remembered about bonds. 

_"A bond between two living beings is not something easily broken. It is not a choice… it is like breaking a feeling. Like turning away from the Force. To break a bond, your feelings would have to change, or one of you would have to die. But even then, the bond wouldn't go away, it would simply… it would simply be empty, a wound."_

For the life of him, Obi-Wan couldn't remember who said it. Only that it was suddenly, inexplicably true. 

"Yeah," he says, avoiding her gaze. "It's stupid. I'm sorry." 

"It's not," she replies, fixing him with her dark eyes. "I can't say I get it, 'cause I don't. But. You know. I get it." 

Obi-Wan nods. 

"Come on, man," Angel tosses her head and walks over to the closet on the other side of the room. There's not much in it- his Jedi robes, the second set of almost-robes from Cole, some basic shirts and pants and whatever that Jay'd gotten his hands on after Nar Shaddaa. Nothing much to look at, really. "Holy kriff. This is sad." 

"I know," he finds himself snorting. Angel grins and ruffles through his clothes. 

"This is awful," she shakes her head. "Seriously. We need to get you some more clothes. Some _better_ clothes." 

"I'd like that," Obi-Wan tells her, and he is almost surprised at how honest it is. He's starting to notice how the darker clothes make him feel better. They make him feel a little bit... a little bit _new._ Like he's not himself. No, he's not Obi-Wan, the perfect Jedi Padawan. He's Ben Kenobi, a smuggler and beater-of-traffickers. Who also wears eyeliner. 

Angel's talking about where to get cheap clothes that would make him look "badass", but Obi-Wan is just smiling at the thought of the name. 

Ben Kenobi. 

It's got a ring to it. 

* * *

Qui-Gon steps outside the Temple. He needs the fresh air. Meditation isn't working as well as it's supposed to, and thoughts of the Siska boy and of Mace's request for him to think about Obi-Wan's funeral keep interrupting him. Denying him access to the healing energies of the Force. 

Obi-Wan's _funeral._ How is he even supposed to plan it? How is the Council expecting him to even show up? If it were really up to him, he would lock himself away and grieve over the future his Padawan could have had, the future that he could have had with _him._

But- Anakin. 

The little boy, the Chosen One. The Council made it abundantly clear that Qui-Gon would be the one to train him, since he'd insisted on bringing him back. He'd accepted, of course. Anakin has so much potential. He is strong with the Force, sensing emotion quickly and there was no doubt that his successful one-man attack Trade Federation's control ship had the benefit of the Force on its side. 

So why does Qui-Gon's heart twist at the thought of Anakin wearing his braid? Two of his soon-to-be four apprentices _did_ die under his mentorship. Xanatos, who he had had a hand in ruining, who turned _to_ the dark and died, in the end? And Obi-Wan, who had loved him and died to protect him _from_ that dark? 

Both of those apprentices he had loved with his whole heart. Sith hells, he still loves Xanatos deep down, loves the boy that he had had the privilege of watching grow up. And he knows he'll love and mourn Obi-Wan until his own death. But both of those apprentices wore his braid and died with it, too. So if he is to be Anakin Skywalker's master, what disastrous fate will befall him? Will he have to watch Anakin die in front of him, _because_ of him? 

He is jolted out of his thoughts as he bumps into an alien talking loudly into a commlink. They shoot him a nasty glare and keep moving, not slowing their speech in the slightest. 

"Oh, yeah. Siska and his crew are batshit to take any offer from the Hutts. No, no, even with the new guy. They won't stand a damn chance." 

_Siska and his crew._

He stands stock still for a moment. 

_Siska._

Qui-Gon whirls, dashing back up the streets of Coruscant to find the alien. When he does, he pulls them into an alley. They drop their commlink and scowl at him. 

"Hey, what the fuck, pal?" 

"Did you say Siska?" Qui-Gon demands. 

"It ain't polite to eavesdrop," the alien bitches back at him. He just shakes him hard. 

" _Did_ you say _Siska_ ," he growls. 

"Yes!" they blurt as Qui-Gon's grip tightens. "Yes! I did. I said it. Why?" 

"What's his full name." 

"They call him Jay," they tell him. "Captain of the _Negotiator. Why_?" 

"None of your business," he says. "Where's the ship now?" 

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" the alien snaps. "All I know is that he and his guys just made a deal with the Hutts on the Outer Rim. It's practically suicide." 

"Thank you," Qui-Gon lets go of them, brushing imaginary lint off their shoulder. "You've been very helpful." 

"Creep," he hears the alien mutter as they walk away. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because now he has a lead. 

James "Jay" Allister Siska isn't dead at all. So Lokar lied. And Qui-Gon wants to know why. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL THEN! 
> 
> alright so in a little bit we're gong to have the TIME SKIP the tags were talking about but DON'T WORRY! it's gonna be an actually *interesting* time skip! i'll stop talking about it because if i keep going i'm gonna spoil it and this chapter isn't even when it comes in!!
> 
> anyway, who actually gives a fuck and reads these author's notes anyway? idk. skip 'em. nothing happens here. 
> 
> drop a comment/kudos if you liked this chapter! they give me ~ life ~


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Obi-Wan begins his transition into the smuggler Ben, both he and Angel struggle with bonds they can't seem to break, or even control. 
> 
> At the same time, Jay and Cole are sent on an assassination mission that will prove to be more consequential than they thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #blessthismess 
> 
> hey guys! happy DECEMBER. 24 days left until christmas, if you celebrate that. 
> 
> well, today we've got some hutt-related shit, a bit of politics, some plot, and a time skip after, probably next chapter or the one after, so buckle up guys. 
> 
> no cw/tw's other than the blanket ones in this chapter, yay! 
> 
> today we start in jay's pov, then over to obi-wan's, then back to jay, and then qui-gon. (he's always last, probably cause he's dRAmAtiC)

Three days later, we get our first assignment. They must want us to really prove we're in it for the long haul with them, because yeah- it's an assassination. We're going to kill someone. Namely, this one senator on this planet a couple hundred miles away, Onderon. He's not a senator of the _Galactic_ Senate, but he is a senator for that planet. And he's opposing smuggling, trying to crack down on corruption. Apparently Onderon has a real nest of smugglers who're under the thumb of the Hutts, and neither the Hutts nor these guys like the senator's plan much. 

So we're going to kill him. 

I talked to Cole last night- Angel and Obi-Wan aren't going on this mission. We've decided. Angel's too young. She's never killed anyone, has never had to. And somebody has to watch her to make sure she doesn't go off on her own. So Obi-Wan. They're trying to work with the Sith's lightsaber anyway. This should give them time to do that. They don't like it- they both argued that they could go as well. But we shut them down pretty quickly. We'll see how the job goes. Break our deal if we have to. But this is for Cole and I to do alone. 

We touch down on the planet of Onderon a short while later. Angel huffs but stays in the ship with Obi-Wan. Cole and I start walking. 

"Are you sure we shouldn't just back out now?" he asks. 

"Yes," I say. "I don't like it. _You_ don't like it, but we'll need the cash sooner rather than later. And if it goes really pear-shaped, we can call it off with the Hutts." 

Cole rolls his eyes. "You know it's not that easy. When have the Hutts ever taken no for an answer?" 

"We'll call it off, and turn them in if we have to," I decide. "We have evidence of what they do. It has to be worth something." 

"Maybe," Cole says, but he doesn't seem convinced. To be honest, I haven't convinced myself either. 

* * *

"Wait." Angel says, finishing putting the pieces of her lightsaber back together. Obi-Wan made her do it with her eyes closed, and she's doing it really well. Obi-Wan had learned to put his lightsaber together under all forms of duress- eyes closed, in the rain, increasingly quickly, then with his eyes closed, and then really fast, with his eyes closed, in the rain. 

"Yeah?" 

She frowns. "Hold on. Something's wrong. Something-" 

Obi-Wan leans forward as her eyes open wide, staring at something he can't see. She flinches, _hard._ Once. Twice. She's squeezing her eyes shut but then opening them again, shaking. 

"Angel? Angel!" he reaches over and pushes at her shoulder. She slumps back against the sofa, breathing hard. "What was that?" 

"I don't know," she sits up, wincing. "I've been having these things recently. Like dreams, but I'm awake." 

"Visions," Obi-Wan whispers. 

"Sure. But they're awful. Horrible." she shudders. 

"How?" he asks. "What happens?"

"Different things," Angel explains. "It's- it's different every time. Sometimes it's- this one was like this- fire. And lava. And someone burning alive, with no arms or legs. And his eyes are yellow every time I see him." Obi-Wan shivers. "And someone yells, sometimes it's another one, but it's always one or the other- ' _You were the Chosen One! It was said you would destroy the Sith, not join them! Bring balance to the force, not leave it in darkness!'_ " 

Obi-Wan wracks his brain for _the Chosen One._ The ancient prophecy states that there will be a Chosen One who will restore balance to the Force. Qui-Gon thinks it's Anakin Skywalker, and he may well be right. But the person, burning alive with no limbs- that can't be Anakin. He didn't look too much into the boy, there was too much going on to really do so, but that boy glowed. He would be a good Jedi, guided by a good master. Regardless of what the Council thought. 

He swallows back a wave of sadness which is immediately replaced by guilt. How can he be thinking of himself right now? When Angel's visions are the most immediately pressing issue, and Anakin's fate could be on the line? 

"It could be prophetic," Obi-Wan suggests. "But maybe not. Fates can be changed." 

Angel frowns, "But it's different sometimes. It's always the same person, but it's different sometimes." 

"It might be two outcomes then," he says. 

"I don't like it," she shakes her head. "I don't like it." 

* * *

"Are we clear?" 

"Clear." 

"Alright. If I miss-" 

"You won't." 

"But if I do." 

"Yes, I'll shoot him if you miss." 

"Thank you." 

I'm up on the roof of this government building. It's tall, but low enough to the ground that I can get up and down it easily. Cole's on the one across the street, both of us holding blasters. I'm fitting my silencer at the end of my blaster and waiting for Cole to give me the go-ahead.

It hadn't been easy getting up here- I've scaled buildings before, and some of them are harder than others, regardless of height. This was one of those ones. Carrying a larger blaster than normal had made it all the more harder, 'cause I couldn't stick it in a holster and use both hands. But I digress. 

"Guy in the purple robes," Cole says through the earpiece. 

"I see him," I reply, aiming and eyeballing him through the scope. "Tell me when." 

"Okay." 

A moment. Two. I see the edges of the senator's robes. 

"Now." 

I fire as he steps into my line of sight. It's a nice, clean head shot, and he drops to the ground, unmoving. I can practically hear Cole's grin through the earpiece as he tells me we're all clear to go. I know the plan- ditch the gun and get back to the ship. But all I can hear are the screams of the people below. Someone's just assassinated their senator and it's all chaos. 

"Jay, get off the roof. _Now_ ," Cole hisses in my ear, and I jolt out of my half-panicked state. I climb the ladders down and put on a pair of gloves, wiping down the gun with a cloth in my back pocket. No prints. I stash the gun in a bush halfway back to the ship, where Cole and I meet up. 

"See, I told you you wouldn't miss." 

"Thanks," I say, forcing a smile onto my face. 

"You're not feeling guilty, are you?" he asks. 

"A little," I shrug. "He just made a speech, y'know? People liked him. And I shot him, and that's not the issue, but I heard them scream and _that's_ what I don't like." 

"Yeah," Cole breathes. "I know how that feels." 

"Yeah," I reply, not knowing what else to say. We walk back to the ship in silence. 

When we get back, Obi-Wan and Angel are sitting on the sofa, the Tusk Cat sleeping at their feet. They're talking fast but quietly, and both look concerned. 

"Gossiping without us?" I quip, trying to diffuse the tension we've just walked into. 

"No," Obi-Wan says, turning to look at us. "It's not-" 

"I know, I know, man," I say. "What's up?" 

Angel takes a deep breath and tells us she's been having visions. Visions about this one person, being burned alive. She describes different voices telling him he was the "chosen one" and that he was "supposed to bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness". 

I shudder as she finishes. "That does not sound pleasant whatsoever." 

"It's not," she replies. 

"I said that it _could_ be prophetic, but I'm not sure. And even if it is, fates _can_ be changed," Obi-Wan adds. 

Cole looks skeptical. "Yeah," he says slowly, "But we can't do much about it, can we? We don't even know the guy." 

Obi-Wan swallows hard. "I think I might." When no one responds, he surges on with his idea. "My former master picked up a slave boy on Tatooine, just a few days ago. He was absolutely sure that he was the Chosen One." 

I snap my fingers. "That little kid that blew up the Trade Federation ship. What'd you say his name was?" Cole's giving me a strange side look- oh yeah, he wasn't there for Obi-Wan's explanation. 

"Anakin Skywalker," he says. 

"That's it," I say. "So is that him? In the future or something?" 

"I don't know," Angel says. "He doesn't look the same. Not even the same color hair. And the men didn't say his name, so I can't be sure." 

"Qui-Gon will make sure he's trained, I know that much for sure," Obi-Wan jumps in. "He practically fought the Council and-" he laughs ruefully, and it sounds forced. I can hear the pain in his voice as he continues- "Practically fought the Council and pushed me aside to try and get them to accept him." 

I look over at Cole and mouth, " _his master_ ", and he nods. Angel's watching us, nodding to Cole and then turning her attention back to the ex-Jedi apprentice. 

"So at least for now he should be fine," I conclude. 

"Hey, whoa," Cole, ever the rational thinker, holds up his hands. "Who ever said we were going to get involved? You-" he points at Obi-Wan, "Said this _Qui-Gon_ will make sure he's trained. And then he'll be a Jedi, right? He _won't_ leave the Force in darkness, or whatever that's supposed to mean." 

"We don't know that," Angel argues. 

"I did," Obi-Wan replies, "And nobody _was_ saying we should get involved. It's just... it's troubling. Because Yoda said he was filled with fear. And you know the saying," he waits expectantly. 

"Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering," Angel, Cole and I say together. 

"Yeah, but of course he'd be afraid," Angel presses. "He was taken from his home, and from his mother, expected to have no attachment to her, and shipped off to be a Jedi. Shown off as the 'Chosen One' and rejected by the Council. Now what? Your old master might fight for him, but what if he loses?" 

The truth in her words is almost palpable as we all sit in silence for that moment. 

"How did you know?" Obi-Wan asks quietly. Her head shoots up. "About the rest of it. His mother. What happened on Tatooine, and with the Council," he clarifies. 

She shakes her head. "I've had visions before, remember?" and then she shrugs, "Some aren't even visions. Just feelings that aren't mine, and little flashes of situations I haven't ever been in. I know what color his mother's eyes are." 

I tip my head back against the wall. "How the fuck." It's not even a question, it's a weary statement. A tired statement that screams _why do these things keep happening to us? Who ever said we were important enough for this?_

"A Force bond." 

Cole looks up sharply. I bring my head up. Angel's brows furrow. 

"What?" 

The copper-haired man fidgets with his fingers. "It's a Force bond. It has to be. How else would she know?" 

"Holy Sith hells," I mumble. "How would that happen?" I direct my next question to Angel- "You didn't even talk to him much, on Naboo."

"You _met_ him?" Obi-Wan protests.

"Yeah, we _did_ help him blow the place up, technically," Angel answers. 

"This is so complicated," Cole says quietly. 

"Right?" I reply. "So, Force bond. Why?" 

"I don't know," Obi-Wan shakes his head. "Maybe the prophecy of the Chosen One says something about it. My master was always more into prophecy than I was." 

"I need a very, very stiff drink," I say, ruffling my hair. "And a shower. Can you get the prophecy without being in the Temple?" 

Obi-Wan shrugs. "Probably. It's a widely-known thing." 

"And if it isn't?" 

"Then we can break into the Jedi Temple, I guess," Cole says, smirking. 

"Tell me you're not serious," I roll my eyes. 

"Oh, I'd be open to it," he says. 

"We are _not_ breaking into the Jedi Temple," Obi-Wan rules. "I'll do the research. Jay, get a shower. You stink." 

"Hey!" I say, faking an offended gasp. 

"He's not wrong," Cole shoves me lightly. 

"You smell too," Angel points out. 

"Traitor," he mutters. "Whatever. You get the first shower then?" 

"You bet," I grin, and waltz away. 

* * *

So James Siska isn't dead at all. 

This thought has kept Qui-Gon up all night, and somewhere around three in the morning, a trickle of fear and concern that is distinctly someone else's invades his mind. And then a poignant thought- 

_I wish you were here. You'd know what to do._

Following his instincts, he sits up and replies, chasing the feeling. 

_Who?_

A flash of panic and fear, and then silence. When he reaches out with the Force, all the emotions are gone. It's like tapping on a stone wall. 

Qui-Gon lies back down. And for just a moment, a split second, he allows himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, the bond between himself and Obi-Wan isn't dead after all. But then he closes his eyes and forces himself to face the truth. His Padawan- no, the man he loves _is_ dead. 

And for the first time since Naboo, Qui-Gon's breath hitches and he _sobs._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well this ended much more angsty than i originally intended. whoops. poor qui-gon, man. apparently writing him sad is my thing now. 
> 
> wait- sweet baby jesus, where is this *going*? i think i have a few ideas, but anyway, i hope you liked this!
> 
> if you did, leave a comment/kudos cause they make me asCEND


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qui-Gon won't get any rest any time soon- the Jedi Council is sending him to the Inner Rim planet of Onderon to find who shot one of their senators. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Jay makes a new friend, one who might endanger them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright fellas, mad plot happens here, so watch yourselves. 
> 
> first we're with qui-gon, then jay, then back to qui. and it is... wild. 
> 
> man, i don't even have the right words to describe this one. it's feelsy. i guess.

" _Onderon_?" 

"Yes," Mace says seriously. "There's been an assassination." 

"One of their senators," Master Plo Koon adds helpfully. "He was the only one killed. There were no injured, and the government thinks there's something, or someone, behind this." 

"And it's big enough to involve getting the Jedi involved?" Qui-Gon asks skeptically.

"Senators from well-off, Inner Rim planets aren't assassinated often," Mace drawls. "So yes." 

"Fine," he agrees. "I will take this mission." 

"Good," the other Master says. "You will have two hours to familiarize yourself with the mission. Then you will find a ship waiting in the hangar." 

"This soon?" 

"They were quite insistent," Shaak Ti says. 

"Will you need another knight to assist you?" Plo Koon asks. 

"No," Qui-Gon answers. 

As the Master Jedi strides away from the Jedi Council, he turns to his apprentice to discuss the mission- and his heart (and the bond) twist painfully as he realizes his habit. 

_Obi-Wan is gone. You would do well to remember that._

A tremor of shock hums through him. Once again, like two nights before, it is not his feeling. He stops dead in his tracks. Reaches out. And just like before, a wall slams up and blocks him from it. 

Qui-Gon keeps walking. He needs to figure out whose feelings these are, read the mission briefing, and hopefully get a head start on finding James Siska. He knows the ex-Padawan is the key to _something,_ he can feel it. And if Siska is the answer, then what he needs now is the question. But when he gets back to his quarters, he picks up his datapad and sits down to read the mission briefing. 

An hour later, Qui-Gon knows that the Onderonian senator was shot in the chest two days before. No one knows who did it. Eyewitnesses didn't see anyone suspicious, or anyone who wasn't supposed to be there. Altogether, it's scant evidence that it was anything at all. If he hadn't been shot, Qui-Gon might have argued that it was not assassination at all. 

He puts the device down and stares at the ceiling, letting out a sigh. No witnesses. No suspects. Nothing out of the ordinary, except that a man was shot and nobody saw the killer. 

* * *

"Shit. Goddammit, _fuck_!" I throw down my datapad and stand up, bursting out of my room and going to the crew lounge. 

"Hey, slow down there, what's up?" Cole stands, rushing over and grabbing both my wrists to hold me still. Obi-Wan and Angel stand as well, concern etched on their faces. 

"The _goddamn_ Jedi Council," I snarl. "The motherfucking Onderonian higher-ups went to the Jedi and asked them to investigate the killing. The guy _we_ shot, Cole!" 

"What?" Obi-Wan whispers. 

"The Jedi _Council_?" Angel demands. 

"Yes!" I say, trying to gesture, wave my hands, but Cole's holding them so I just settle for vigorously shaking them. "They're assigning someone to look into it. The fucking Jedi!" 

"Nobody knows anything," Cole insists. "No one saw anything. You know that." 

"Well, if nobody knew anything, they wouldn't have gotten the Jedi involved, would they?" I retort. "We have to get off this godforsaken planet." 

"Wait," Cole says soothingly. "We wait until morning, alright? The Jedi can't get anyone here that fast. We'll sleep on it, and then get out of this system." 

"The longer we're here the more people will notice," I say. 

"One night, and we take off," Obi-Wan says. "Cole's right. They can't get someone out here that fast." 

"Fine," I agree, although nervous energy is making me fidget. "But if we end up executed or in jail, I'm never speaking to any of you fuckers again." 

"You will," Cole grins, leaning in. "You'd be lonely in prison. But okay." 

"Shut up," I retort, flushing pink. Dammit. I look down at his hands on me and, childishly, wish that he would keep them there. 

He doesn't, letting go and going back to the sofa, sitting down and sprawling across it. I have to stop myself from looking at the spread of his legs in his jeans. _Get it together, Siska._ Obi-Wan and Angel sit back down as well, after a moment.

Obi-Wan picks up his datapad and says, rather offhandedly, "Angel and I have been talking about my name." 

"Yeah?" Cole asks, looking up from where he's cleaning his gun. 

"Yeah," he nods. "Have you ever heard of a smuggler, or space pirate, or whatever named _Obi-Wan_?" 

"'Pirate' is a strong word," I snort, even though I know it's kind of true. Obi-Wan's look says that he's thinking the same thing. 

"It's not wrong," he says pointedly. "In any case, we've been talking, and I want to go by Ben." 

I blink. "Ben? Is that why you said it to Carmine, back on Corellia?" 

"Yes," he nods. 

"Where'd you get that?" Cole asks. 

"A nickname from an old friend." 

"So," I say. "Ben, huh?" 

"Yeah," Obi-Wan says. 

"Ben Kenobi. I like it." I nod. "Well, welcome to the crew, Ben." 

Ben smirks and runs a hand through his hair. "Thank you." 

About an hour later we all hit the sack. My anxiety's gone down a little, knowing we did the job and we did it well. And the Jedi might have the Force on their side, but so do we. And we have speed. The Jedi, notably, as a whole, do not. Cole and the Tusk Cat are starting to get along better, but we still haven't named him. _We should get on that_ , I think as I change into sweatpants and a loose shirt and get into bed. The sooner I get to sleep, the sooner we can get the hell off this planet. 

Waking up isn't pleasant. I'm warm and _really_ comfy, but I open my eyes a crack and see the sun starting to rise. Oh good. I slide out of bed and pull on a pair of jeans, hooking my lightsaber to my belt as per usual. 

I'm the first one up, which I notice as I walk into the lounge to get some caff. The cat pads out of Cole's room a moment later and brushes up against my leg. 

"Hey," I murmur, gently petting his head. He lets out a _mrr_ sound and pushes his head into my hand. "Aw. We should get you a name, buddy," I say. He just looks up at me and blinks lazily. I smile. Why haven't I thought of getting a pet before? 

I decide to open the ship doors and stand outside as I drink my caff. The sunrise is pretty, and the air is cool, not enough to make me shiver, but enough that it's pleasant. The cat follows me out, prowling into a tiny sunbeam and sitting down, looking out at the outskirts of the city.

And that's when I see a little kid, a little boy, watching me from next to a building.

I freeze. But I force myself to wave and smile, like I didn't just shoot his senator yesterday. He comes closer, avoiding the cat like nobody's business. I'm suddenly very aware of how out-in-the-open my lightsaber is. 

"Hi!" the kid, with dark skin and darker hair, can't be older than ten. He's beaming up at me. 

"Hello," I smile. 

"I'm Victor," he introduces himself. 

"I'm Jay," I tell him. "Can I call you Vic?" 

"Sure," he shrugs. "What's that?" I look, and he's pointing at- yep- the lightsaber. 

"It's a lightsaber," I say, reaching inside the ship to put my mug down. "You wanna see?" 

"Yeah!" Vic practically vibrates with excitement. 

Now, I'm not stupid. Anyone with a lightsaber is suspicious right off the bat. I don't look like a Jedi, who are the only people who can really get away with using them. They made sure of that. But this is a child, and who would believe him if he said there was a Jedi with a yellow laser sword on Onderon? 

"Hey, why are the doors open?" I hear Ben call, and a moment later we see him, in a black, long-sleeved shirt and grey pants. His Padawan braid is wrapped around his finger, where he fidgets with it. I remember the nervous habit- he never stopped it. He's done it as long as he's had one. In that moment I sort of miss my braid. 

_No._

"Just wanted to get some fresh air," I say. "And I made a friend. Vic, this is Ben. Ben, this is Vic." 

"Hi," he smiles. 

"Jay's got a lightsaber!" Victor says, pointing again. Ben nods, looking over at me. His expression screams _are you stupid_ but I grin and shrug it off. 

"He does," Ben says. 

"I said I was gonna show it to him," I tell him. Turning back to Vic, I say, "Now- you can't touch it, alright? It's dangerous." 

"I won't," he promises, eyes wide. 

"Good," I say, and unclip it. I thumb the activation plate and the yellow-gold blade emerges with a soft hum. I hear the kid's audible gasp. 

"Mister Jay, are you a _Jedi_?" Vic whispers, eyes somehow getting even wider. 

I exchange a look with Ben. Turning back, I say, "You could say that. After all, only Jedi have these, right?" 

"Right!" he says. From inside, I hear Cole puttering around, which means we should be taking off shortly. 

"It's a shame you didn't catch us earlier, Vic," Ben says smoothly, taking the words right out of my mouth. "Our pilot's up. We have to get going, don't we, Jay?" 

"Yeah," I nod. I whistle for the Tusk Cat, figuring he'll take that as his cue to come back inside. He does, getting up and padding into the ship, not acknowledging Vic's presence in the slightest. Ben follows. "It was nice meeting you," I tell Victor. 

"Yeah!" he smiles. 

"One last thing," I say, and lean forward, lowering my voice to a whisper. "You can't say anything about this, or that we were even here, alright?" I pull back and wink, grinning slyly. "Secret Jedi business." 

"Secret Jedi business," Vic solemnly agrees, smiling. I wave, and walk back into the ship. As Cole powers up the ship for take-off, I see him take off back toward the buildings. 

* * *

Qui-Gon lands on Onderon in the morning. Another senator and some other government officials are waiting for him when he does. 

"Master Jinn, it's good to meet you," the senator, a no-nonsense woman with brown hair pulled into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. 

"Senator Jeni," he replies. "It is good to meet you as well." 

Qui-Gon gets the run-down of everything he already knows. The other senator was shot, probably from a high vantage point like the roof of a building, out of nowhere. No suspects, and no eyewitnesses had seen anyone that wasn't supposed to be there, suspicious or not. Barely any leads. 

He begs off at the end of a meeting, saying he needs a walk to clear his head, which is true. But he also wants to scope out the place where the senator died, and try and work out which building a shooter could have used as a vantage point to get the hit. 

As he walks, towards the outskirts of the city, he spots a group of kids, the oldest looking like 13, and the youngest, probably six. They're playing, two have sticks and are mimicking swordfighting. The black-haired kid spots him over his friend's shoulder and stops on a dime in his tracks. The other one clips his shoulder with his stick, but the first doesn't even seem to register it. Qui-Gon waves, smiling at the child.

His gaze drops to Qui-Gon's belt, and he calls- "Are you a Jedi too, mister?" 

_Too?_

He makes sure none of his surprise shows on his face, and asks, "Too?" 

"Yeah," the other kid says, turning and dropping his stick. "Vic says he saw a Jedi this mornin'." 

"I did! He said so!" the boy, Vic, insists. 

"Really? What did he look like? Maybe I know him," Qui-Gon says. 

"He had black hair and had a really big cat with big teeth!" Vic says, making tusks with his index fingers. "And he had a, a laser sword!" 

"It's a _lightsaber,_ you big dummy," one of the kids says. 

"A lightsaber. It was yellow," Vic says. "And there was another one, too! He had brown hair, but maybe it was red, and a braid from here-" he points to a spot just above his ear and just under his temple. "All the way to here." and he uses his other hand to point to a spot halfway down his chest. "They left a few hours ago, though," Vic shrugs. 

"Hm. I think I might know them. Thank you," Qui-Gon says, and smiles through his shock. 

He's halfway back to the place where Senator Jeni had booked him a room when he dares to try it. Dares to hope. He reaches into the broken bond tentatively, with the Force, and recalls his former Padawan's Force signature. He pushes his feelings for the man into his name, into the memories he has of him, and asks-

_Obi-Wan?_

There's a rush of emotion- anger, fear, surprise, happiness. Panicked blue-green eyes and the inside of an unfamiliar room. And then, last, a blinding, split second flash of _guilt_.

And then it stops, and all there is is silence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i sure do love making my characters suffer, huh? but you can't have the rainbow without a little rain, right? is that the saying? whatever, we'll have our happy ending. 
> 
> also- TIME SKIP?? YES?? it *is* a weird place to put a time skip but i promise it'll work, i think. it works to me. 
> 
> leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed! they give me ~ life ~


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a year and a half since Onderon. Nobody ever found out who shot the senator, it was chalked up to Separatist behavior. Holed up on a cozy forest planet are our crew, who are doing better now than ever before. Angel's learning to use the Force. Ben is growing his hair out. Life is good. 
> 
> Until Angel brings something to the attention of the others that could possibly destroy everything they've worked so hard for, and send Ben and Qui-Gon colliding back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE PLOT DIDN'T STOP AT THE TIME SKIP! HERE WE ARE, ALMOST TWO YEARS LATER, AND THESE CHARACTERS ARE STILL ABSOLUTE MESSES. BUT WHAT WERE WE EXPECTING, REALLY? 
> 
> anyway, i'm excited. no tw's, we're all good here. 
> 
> we're in ben's pov for the whole chapter this time! how novel! have fun.

**One Year and Six Months Later**

  
He wakes up on the floor, not entirely sure how he got there. 

Oh, now he remembers- Jay and Cole had brought home some entirely too strong Corellian beer. Ben took one sip and judged that if he finished the bottle he'd be dead of alcohol poisoning. Jay just called him a wimp and took a long slug. That was a mistake, because he ended up almost spitting it out as he choked it down. Cole had fallen off the sofa laughing, as Angel griped about not being able to drink. Ben just told her she was lucky that they wouldn't let her. Drinking that was up there on the list of the worst experiences of his life, which also included falling down a Naboo power generator shaft and that time he had been kidnapped and put in a Force-suppressing collar. 

He sighs and stares up at the ceiling. No one else is awake yet, it's just him and his thoughts. 

It's been over a year. A year and six months, to be exact. A year and a half since Naboo, and a year and a half since Onderon. Since Angel put eyeliner on him for the first time. Since he stopped growing his Padawan braid. 

And it's been wonderful, it really has. After a particularly dangerous job that almost got Angel killed, the four of them ditched the Hutts and decided to move on. For a few months after, they drifted from system to system, staying a few nights here and a couple more there. They saw a lot of the Outer Rim. The Outer Rim saw a lot of them. 

They eventually did decide to stay on a forest planet called Bakura, and bought a house on the very outskirts of its main city, Salis D'aar. It's big, but not huge, so each of them have their own separate rooms and only Jay and Angel have to share a bathroom. Well- Jay and Cole used to share, but Jay kept complaining about how long he took in the shower, so they switched. 

Ben likes it here. It's peaceful. He goes outside every morning and does his katas as the sun rises, comes in, has tea and breakfast and takes a shower. Then he goes out again, because he's started a garden. He plants vegetables when he can, and Cole uses them in his cooking if he needs. But Ben likes growing flowers and plants with pretty leaves best. They make him happy. 

He's gone back to dressing in softer, more muted colors. He favors the tans and beiges and browns of the Jedi, but occasionally he lets Jay put him in black and grey, and allows Angel to put him in colorful makeup and soft pastel clothing. Jay teases him about it goodnaturedly. 

They do go off-world sometimes- Jay and Angel, especially have become more passionate about the injustices in the galaxy, especially on the Outer Rim. So sometimes they suit up, fire up the _Negotiator_ and liberate slaves on nearby planets. They occasionally get messages through undercover networks asking for assassinations of dangerous gang leaders or traffickers. And they are all only too happy to fulfill those requests. Because of this, they've gained a bit of notoriety on Bakura and its neighboring planets. People know them, occasional smugglers who will kill off bad men or free you from slavery if you can get a message to them. Ben, despite himself, enjoys it (just a little, of course). He's happy with the life they've carved out for themselves on Bakura.

The house they bought here is surrounded by a forest on three sides, and just a few feet away from the clearing the house is in is another one. It's large and the trees provide shade, and that's where they all go to train. Ben teaches Angel and Cole the very basics- meditation and the starting lightsaber cadences. Cole is skeptical about lightsabers, and doesn't know if he wants one. He always says his blaster suits him just fine. But he takes Ben's saber and moves with a grace that he hasn't seen many have without years of training under their belts. Cole is gifted with grace. 

While Ben teaches the two what he's learned, in the light, as a Jedi, Jay teaches them the tricks he's learned from the dark. How to draw on passion as well as serenity. How to keep as much balance as they can between the two. Cole drifts toward the light, and Angel strays toward the dark. But they always come back to the middle. And Jay and Ben train too. They teach each other their separate skills, and they spar a lot. Jay likes to flip over Ben's head and attack from behind. Ben likes to flick Jay's legs out from under him with the Force. Their laughter and the noise from the crashes of their blue and gold blades fill the clearing. 

It's not all fun, of course. Angel has visions still, and more than once Ben, Jay and/or Cole have walked in on Angel, sitting on her bed and talking to an almost ghostly apparition of Anakin Skywalker. Jay tries to stop drinking as much. Lately it's been getting better. Last night he only had one beer as opposed to the three he would have had a few months ago. Cole sometimes has days where he locks himself in his room for hours and doesn't come out. And when he does, he doesn't speak to anyone at all. 

And Ben? 

Ben has his moments. He has his nightmares, waking up with his former master's name on his lips. Awful scenarios where he hadn't been able to save him. And scenarios where they met again and Anakin is there, and Anakin is the Chosen One. Not only is he the Chosen One of the Force, of the prophecy, but he is also Qui-Gon's Chosen One. The apprentice he actually wanted to have. They don't say anything, they never say anything. They just look at him, as if to say it's good that you left. I finally got what I wanted. And you, Kenobi, were never what I wanted. 

He struggles with that, with his self-worth. Jay is similar in that way, and they sit together when they feel down sometimes. They sit outside among Ben's plants and say nothing at all. 

He knows what Jay has gone through. While he might not know what he did, what he had to do in the five years between when Jay left and when they met again, he does know that his years at the Temple were bad enough to warrant plant-sitting. He knows the damage Jay's master did. He knows because he's had to pick up the pieces he left. He did it back then. He tries to do it now. 

Because Jay likes to pretend that nothing hurts him, tries to crack jokes and be a dumbass all the time. But things do hurt him, and no one is quite sure what to do when they do. Jay is the leader, after all, the man who took in a seventeen year old and then, a year later, a child of only thirteen out of the goodness of his heart. He gave them a home. Shit- he gave Ben a home, like he knew he needed it in that bar a year and a half ago. 

He blinks and gets up, the room spinning briefly as he grabs onto the back of the sofa to stay upright. He needs water. And maybe some caff. Usually in the mornings he drinks tea, but he's going to be in for a hell of a hangover as it is. He needs to wake up as quickly as possible before the headache really kicks in. 

Walking over to the kitchen, Ben fills a glass with water, downs it, and has another. He looks back into the living room and sees Jay sprawled out on the floor on the other side of the room, Cole asleep on the couch and Angel slumped against him. He snorts quietly. After his third glass of water, he feels a little better and goes upstairs to his room to get dressed. 

As he pulls on his now typical clothing, his Jedi tunic with the sleeves ripped off to make it more weather-appropriate and matching pants. Ben runs a hand through his shaggy, copper-colored hair as he looks in the mirror at himself. His hair's gotten a little lighter in color due to him being outside in the sun all the time, and it's definitely way longer than it ever was previously. His Padawan braid is the same length it was on Naboo, and he grabs a few bobby pins from the dresser and pins it up so it's largely unseen. 

Ben has bittersweet feelings about that braid. It's his last physical reminder of his time with his master, except for his lightsaber, but he doesn't count that. He honestly doesn't know why he even wants a reminder of his former master at all. The entire point of him leaving the Jedi Order was so he wouldn't have to be around him. But letting it go- even now, even almost two years after- letting it go makes his heart twist. 

He seriously hopes Qui-Gon didn't feel that.

A few hours after they'd taken off from Onderon (the Jedi had decided that Separatists were behind the assassination, which was a plausible idea, seeing as little clusters of them have been more vocal this past year), Ben had felt this bone-deep shock shoot through a bond he thought had died a week before. And before he could put his shields up fully, Qui-Gon's voice, his thoughts were in his head. The one that stood out the most was the call of his name. 

Ben had almost had a nervous breakdown, slamming his shields into place and hoping that it was enough to keep his feelings away from his former master. Part of him had whispered would it really be so bad to talk to him again? Would it be so awful to see him again? 

And the answer was absolutely yes. It would be that bad. His insecurities ran deep before he left. Now? Now that Qui-Gon's got a new apprentice and now that he means nothing to him, or the Jedi Order itself? Now that he's become a smuggler and aided a murder? What would Qui-Gon see if he looked at him now? 

Ben soothes himself with the rules he'd set for himself after Onderon. Don't contact him. Keep your shields up if you can. Don't think about him. He nods to himself and tries to focus. Feels like meditation is in order. 

He walks out to the living room again after brushing his teeth (and deciding that breakfast could wait a little bit) to find Angel talking to Anakin as she makes toast. She's telling him about the previous night, and his breath hitches when she says his name. Anakin just giggles and says something about Master Windu. 

"I gotta go, Ani, but I'll see you around, 'kay?" she asks. Anakin bids her goodbye and his apparition disappears. "Ben." her voice is serious and quiet.

"Yeah?" he asks, filling another glass of water. 

"I found this thing last night," Angel says, regarding him with her dark eyes that, like Jay's, seem to see too far into him. He suspects she got the quality from him. "I was going to tell you, but then-" she gestures. 

"Corellian beer. Yeah. What'd you find?" 

She looks uncomfortable for a moment. "You know what- let me show you." She leaves the room and comes back a few seconds later with her datapad. Unlocking it, she scrolls down and then shoves it into his hands. 

The page she's on is from the Jedi Archives. The header reads _The Prophecy of the Chosen One._ He looks up at her.

Angel waves a hand and says, "Just keep reading." Ben shrugs and does as she says. The next page is labeled _The Twin Prophecy_. It's a prophecy that's adjacent to the Chosen One prophecy, and states that the subject of the first prophecy will have a "twin in the Force", and that their life force would be linked to twin. Their power would be shared and made greater by their Twin in the Force, especially when physically near each other. The last line of the explanation read that the two would share immense power, and would die near each other, as one could not survive without contact with the other for long. 

"What are you implying?" Ben whispers, although he thinks he already knows.

"That this..." she looks away, then back to him, "This is probably us. Me and Ani." 

"You're the Twin," he says. 

"I think so." 

"Wake up Jay and Cole, would you? I think they'd want to see this." 

Angel nods and goes into the living room. Ben goes to reread the prophecy, but his eyes won't focus enough. Because he's just thought of something. 

If Anakin and Angel are tied in the Force. If he is the Chosen One, and she is his Twin, then they're both susceptible to the Dark Side of the Force. Angel, they can keep an eye on. Angel, while amicable with her darkness, isn't drawn to it like the Sith on Tatooine, who he knows now is Darth Maul. But he can't be so sure about Anakin. He isn't the boy's keeper. Certainly not his master. 

If Anakin is the Chosen One, and Angel his Twin, the boy's master needs to know it. So he takes a deep, steadying breath and gropes at a dying bond. 

_Qui-Gon? It's me. We need to talk._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love the disaster quartet, tbh. some of my favorite original characters.
> 
> leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed, they make me aSCEND


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nearly two years after the death of Obi-Wan Kenobi, his funeral is held. The Jedi Council allowed Qui-Gon to look into the circumstances of his ex-Padawan's death, but he's found nothing that suggests Obi-Wan is alive. Their bond is dismissed as too volatile and simply Qui-Gon feeling what he wants to feel. 
> 
> It is only when a mysterious, encrypted message is sent to his datapad that he truly begins to wonder if he wasn't faking it. If Obi-Wan really lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10th chapter! hell yeah! i've updated the playlist for this at least six different times since the last chapter. 
> 
> *NOTE: i rewrote some of this fic so that it is technically a stand-alone/alternate ending for "blow my mind, baby". they originally were connected, and now they are... not. makes the pining easier to write- anyway. just so we're good on that*
> 
> no specific tw's here. 
> 
> first we're in jay's pov, then qui-gon's, then back to jay's. it's angst town. much epic, don't you think?

"Wait. Run this by me one more time," I say, rubbing my hand over my face. "You want to tell a Jedi that his apprentice is not only the Chosen One, but also has a _weirdly_ powerful Force bond with a smuggler almost six years older than him? _Why_?" 

Ben crosses his arms. "I'm not saying we reveal ourselves, or tell him anything too important. Just a warning that he should keep Anakin safe." 

"That makes me feel _so_ much better," I sigh. "And you tried using the bond." 

"Used it, thought better of it, and shut down my end of it," he nods. "I realized that using it would give me, and by association, all of you, away." 

"Damn straight," I push myself onto the counter. "Fine. If we're doing this, though. We're sending it indirectly. We're encrypting the _shit_ out of it. And we're using as many burner accounts as possible. I don't want any possibility of being traced." 

"I can manage that," Cole says from where he's perched on the back of the sofa. 

"And-" I hold up a finger. "We are saying what we need to say in the least words possible. No conversations." 

"Fine," Ben agrees, and Angel nods. Cole gets up and gets his datapad. 

"Let's do it, then." 

After multiple arguments about how to word the thing, we settle on two lines and a signature. Ben insists on it. 

"This had better be worth it," I complain, stretching out on the floor. 

"It will be," Angel says. She's wearing the most serious expression I've ever seen on her. 

"Okay," I say, trying to relax and take Ben and Angel at their word. My issue with this is that if we were to be tracked, we'd be brought in. And I really do not want to see my former master. But that's none of their concern. "Ready?"

"Yes." We all crowd around Ben, who's just pressed _send._

Cole is the first to move after a moment. "Well, the hell are we all standing around for?" Ben just puts down the datapad, silent. He breaks from the almost-huddle and goes to the stairs, up to his room. 

Angel blows a quiet raspberry. I just stare at the ceiling, unsure of what to do. 

"I get why he doesn't like talking about-" Angel picks up the tech and stares at the _recipient_ box. "This. And I... I feel bad about this. I want to keep Anakin safe, but not if it makes him do this every time." 

"He agreed to this," Cole says. "And we all know he wouldn't if he wasn't okay with it." 

"Yeah," she replies, still looking guilty. "But-" 

"Cole's right," I say and place a hand on her shoulder. "Ben wants the same thing you do. It might be painful for him, but if he didn't think he could handle it, he wouldn't have let us do what we just did." 

"Really?" Angel flares up. "He does all sorts of things that he feels he has to. He stepped aside from his master for Ani. Stars know he didn't want to. We all know why he left the Jedi anyway-" 

"Angel," I start. 

"No," she says. "We haven't even talked about it, as a team. That's what we are, right? A team? Then maybe we should _act_ like it." she takes a breath. "We know why he left. He was in love with this _Qui-Gon Jinn-_ who sounds like a real piece of work, by the way- and we, _I_ just put him back in that position." 

"He wanted to do this," Cole says firmly. 

"I don't know that he did." Angel says, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"Then ask him," I say, gesturing to the stairs. "Maybe not right now, but in a little bit." 

"Yeah," she says, rubbing at her upper arms. "I will." 

"I'm gonna go work out," I say. They nod, and I swing upstairs to get into more loose-fitting clothing. Strapping my lightsaber to my belt, I leave the house and go to the sparring clearing. 

Starting with some stretches to warm me up, I swing into the more forceful of the beginner saber cadences. I've got to work off the nervous energy that's seemed to spread from Ben to all of us. 

Now, don't get me wrong. I don't want to put Ben in a position he isn't comfortable being in. Qui-Gon hurt him badly, and whether he stayed with the Jedi or not, he'd be dealing with the aftermath. 

For me, the nightmares and bad feelings only got worse after I left the Order. My master was not a good man, and I'm surprised he's still a Jedi. I thought they'd catch on to his ways sooner, but I suppose the Jedi Order is just like any other organization, only seeing what they want to see. And for all they know, I'm a Sith just like my master said I'd be.

My guess? No one remembers Cole or Angel, which pisses me off. Angel is absolutely good enough to be a Jedi, and it sure wasn't Cole's fault that he wasn't strong enough in the Force to be a Padawan. Which is bullshit on its own level, because Cole is the most powerful person with Force empathy I know. He's on some sort of different wavelength than the rest of us, which is pretty cool if you ask me. 

I grit my teeth and kick off the base of a tree, flipping and swinging my lightsaber. I'm letting my anger fuel my moves, but it feels anything _but_ dark. I'm mad, yeah, but on the behalf of someone else, and somehow I still feel just as light and in control as I do when I'm drawing on the peace and serenity of the light. 

I laugh to myself at the thought. Light _darkness_.

_You're an idiot, Siska. Keep going._

* * *

_"One year and six standard months ago, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi rejoined with the Force, the unifying presence from which we come from, work within, and listen to. His body may have passed on, but his spirit remains alive within all of us, and in the Force."_

No master wants to hear the final rites of their Padawan. But at the same time, Qui-Gon is pretty sure Obi-Wan isn't dead at all. 

It _has_ been a year and a half since Naboo. Six months after, the Jedi Council advanced Anakin to a Padawan, and as much as Qui-Gon enjoys training the boy, sometimes he'll do or say something that just _feels_ like something Obi-Wan would have said. It always makes his stomach twist, and suddenly it's not Anakin standing in front of him, it's Obi-Wan, with his copper hair and bright blue eyes, smiling like Qui-Gon's just said something particularly smart. And he'll have to apologize to Anakin for drifting off, even though he thinks the sandy-haired boy knows exactly what's happening, because he'll do whatever it was less the next time. 

What hurts the most, but makes him happier than anything, are the times when the bond lets through muted emotions of Obi-Wan's (He's still having a hard time labeling them as _Obi-Wan's,_ mostly because he's afraid that they aren't and then he'll _really_ be in for it). Sometimes it's snippets of music, or bursts of happiness. At night it's vivid, flashing lights and fear. The thought of Obi-Wan in pain without him to help hurts more than anything physical ever could. 

Which begs the question, if Obi-Wan is alive, why didn't he return to the Jedi Order? Could he have been kidnapped? Could he still be on Naboo? Or, and this thought hits him like a hurricane- or did Obi-Wan not _want_ to come back? But why wouldn't he? He was a skilled Padawan, strong and bright in the Force. He seemed absolutely dedicated to the Jedi, wanting to be a Knight. So why would he not return? 

Because of him. Of course. When all he's ever wanted was to not let Obi-Wan down, that is what he ended up doing. In maybe all the worst ways possible. 

He leaves the funeral in a daze, Anakin trailing behind him, silent for once. He bids him a good night, forcing a smile onto his face, and then enters his own quarters. 

Only then does he let the dam break, grasping desperately for the cold, dead end of his broken bond. Of course nothing happens- whoever's on the other end doesn't want him there, doesn't want him to connect with them. But it hurts a little less to know that the bond is _there_ to begin with. He spills all of his conflicting emotions into the bond, gasping.

When it all stops, Qui-Gon tips his head back and regrets it. 

A few minutes pass in silence as he tries to collect himself again. How could he lose control like that? He's a Jedi Master, for crying out loud. It's been a year and a half. He needs to get a grip.

His datapad pings from where it sits on the table. He sighs. Probably another round of condolences from Mace. But when he picks it up, instead what's on the screen is a message from an unknown address. Obviously, it's been encrypted repeatedly. It'd have to be, to get by the Jedi Order's notable security. 

The message reads simply- 

_Master Jedi,_

_Protect your apprentice and mind your prophecies._

_\- B_

* * *

Sitting on his bed, Ben can't help but try and reach out to Qui-Gon through the bond. One of the hardest things about losing his master was the loss of the wisdom and security he had provided. Not that Jay, Cole and Angel can't provide wisdom or security, but they don't do it in the same way. Which isn't their fault, of course. He doesn't love them like that. 

Of course, the bond is cold and unreceptive. As it should be. Why would Qui-Gon want to talk to him? His failed apprentice, who left the Jedi to become a smuggler? 

_Well, wait,_ he thinks, getting a bit defensive at his own thoughts. He doesn't regret the choice he made. It's just that- it's not the one that Obi-Wan Kenobi, perfect Jedi Padawan, would have made. _Obi-Wan_ would have stayed. _Obi-Wan_ would have become a Knight, _Obi-Wan_ would have gotten over his silly crush and moved on with his life. 

But he isn't Obi-Wan Kenobi anymore. He hasn't _been_ Obi-Wan in almost two years. 

He doesn't even notice the tears slipping out and down his cheeks as these thoughts run wild through his brain. 

_Master,_ he cries, but the word doesn't physically emerge. It is thrown down their bond, the implications of it and feelings associated with it shaking him to his bones. Loneliness, because for all the friends he's made, he aches for the one person who he can't have and wouldn't take back. Fear, for the future, and for Anakin, and, selfishly, for himself. Sadness over Obi-Wan Kenobi's demise and the rise of a man who would never be accepted by his former peers now, Ben. 

_Obi-Wan?_

Qui-Gon's replied. 

He gasps but can't bring himself to shut down the bond. Instead, he makes to correct the man on the other end of the bond.

_It's not me, Master. It's not me anymore._

_What do you mean? Of course it's you, dear one. Where are you?_

Ben _sobs._ He almost chokes on it. 

_Qui-Gon. Master, please._

_Where are you, Obi-Wan?_

He shakes his head though he knows Qui-Gon can't see it. 

_I'm sorry, Master. I always seem to disappoint you, but I don't mean to. I'm sorry._

The apology has spilled out, and he can't seem to stop it. Tears run down his cheeks and spill onto the covers of his bed. After almost two long years, finally having contact with his former master has his head spinning and his heart pounding. He's probably spilling all his emotions into the bond because his shields seem to have completely given up

 _Obi-Wan,_ Qui-Gon says, more stern now. _Hush, dearest. Where have you been? What happened?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHA DEPRESSION
> 
> ALSO I LITERALLY *JUST* HEARD THAT DISNEY+ IS MAKING AN OBI-WAN SERIES WITH EWAN MCGREGOR AND HAYDEN CHRISTIANSEN. IM DYING. OH MY GOD. THIS IS LEGIT THE ONLY STAR WARS THING IVE WANTED SINCE REVENGE OF THE SITH WTF. NOT TO MENTION THAT EWAN LOOKS LIKE HE HASNT AGED A DAY SINCE 2005. BUT WHATEVER. I LOVE IT. I LOVE HIM. AAAAAAAAAAAAA
> 
> leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!! 
> 
> (REMEMBER TO REREAD THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS IF YOU WANT SINCE THIS IS NOW TECHNICALLY A STANDALONE FIC.)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel and Jay enjoy bad television and paint each other's nails as Ben gets himself together enough to shut down his end of the bond. The ex-Padawan then makes a decision (or two) that will change everything. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Cole brings everyone's attention to a man in town asking too many questions, with ties to the Jedi. And apparently, he's looking for the "Jedi who are not Jedi".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. schedule bumped up by a day- four days between chapters! mostly because lately life has been *wild* on my end of things. school's crazy atm. 
> 
> so, in an attempt to get this to have an e v e n s l o w e r build i'm gonna just put some filler dumbness in this chapter so it's like the whole "plot what plot" thing except with stupidity not porn 
> 
> i don't even know what's going on. just read the damn chapter. content warning for... dumb stuff? OH WAIT- underage drinking. okay. we're good now. 
> 
> starting in jay's pov, because who's the real idiot in this fic (besides anakin. come on. the man is a walking disaster)? then we pop on over to ben, then angel.

I get back from the clearing at least three hours later, sweat soaking into my clothes. When I walk into the house, Cole is asleep on the couch. Angel and Ben are nowhere to be seen. She's probably talking to Anakin, he's most likely meditating, or doing whatever he does beside sit in his plants when he's upset. I don't mind. I've got a shower to take, a Cole to wake up, and probably a walk after. I'm a simple man.

I head upstairs, into my room first to grab a change of clothes.. Heading into the bathroom, I turn on the water and hum a Coruscanti drinking song I learned a few years back as I strip and get in. I wash my hair quickly and get out of the water only to realize that when I brought my clothes in, apparently all I brought were a pair of jeans and boxers. And socks. Now, I've got no problems with walking around sans shirt. Except... 

Except I can hear Cole coming up the steps. 

Look, it's not a _thing,_ okay? It's never _been_ a thing. Cole and I are friends. Good friends, and we have been for maybe... are we going on five or six years? Bu the point is that for whatever reason, my skin crawls at the thought of him seeing me half naked. 

_Whatever,_ I dismiss the thought. _It isn't like he's never seen me like this before._ And so I throw on the underwear, jeans and socks, and open the door. 

Cole's reading a book as he walks to his room, not looking up. An odd sense of disappointment washes over me when his door shuts behind him. _What the hell are you doing, jackass? Go put on a shirt._

I don't get it. It's like a switch has flipped or something, and now I can't get the idea of walking past Cole eighteen times shirtless out of my head. I shake my head, grab a shirt from my bedroom floor and pull it on. I've gotta find a way to shut this part of me up. 'Cause Cole doesn't like me like that, and I don't like _him,_ and even if I did, he still wouldn't like me back. Seriously- I'm a grade-A disaster whose only real talents include beating people up, awful puns, and drinking way more than the average person should be able to. _And_ I'm a Jedi dropout. 

It's harder to swallow that than I thought it'd be. 

I shake my head. I'm going to go find Angel, and go into town and probably blow any spare credits I have on stupid crap and booze. She can't have booze, but we both love buying random things in the shops a little ways away. 

"Angel!" I yell, banging on her door. I hear shuffling from inside, and then she opens it, hair in curlers (where did she- I don't want to know) and a bottle of nail polish in her hand. "Oh my god, girls day?" I let out a fake, pitchy squeal, and she rolls her eyes, almost closing the door in my face. "No, wait, wait," I say, "Can you paint my nails?" 

And she smirks, opening the door. 

"Thanks," I grin and pretend to flip my hair. "Can I get a color that'd go with my skin tone? A guy's gotta look his best around here." 

"You wear the same jeans three days a week," Angel snorts. "You are no fashionista." 

"I'm wounded," I say, placing a hand on my chest and taking mock offense. 

"Shut up," she waves a hand at the bed. "Sit down. If you're gonna bother me, you're getting a makeover." 

"Sounds good to me," I say, and sit at the end of the bed, legs crossed. "Hey, have you seen Ben since... all that?" 

She shrugs. "No. I heard him talking to himself though- he does that when he's upset. Though he doesn't seem to notice." 

"I hope he's okay," I say quietly. "Qui-Gon really did a number on him. And as much as he tries to ignore it and pretend it doesn't affect him anymore..." I trail off. 

"It does," Angel says. "And that's his name? I just called him 'Ben's Dickwad Ex-Master' in my head." 

I crack a smile. "'Qui-Gon' is shorter." 

"Although not as fun to say," she grins wickedly. 

"Well, of course not," I arch an eyebrow, and she giggles. 

"Hold still," she says, rummaging through a small box of her nail polish. "You love being all emo and whatnot, so-" And she pulls a bottle of dark, navy blue polish that looks almost black. 

"I am not _emo_ ," I say.

"Sure," Angel rolls her eyes. "You listen to your weird heavy rock music and you wear black all the time. You're _not_ emo." 

"You're absolutely right I'm not," I point at her with a jokingly serious expression on my face. She just laughs and opens the bottle, gesturing for me to hold out my hands. I do, and take the initiative to use the Force to keep the bottle floating in the air next to us. Angel just gives a quiet giggle and dips the brush into the polish, holding one of my hands. She starts to paint my thumb first, concentrating on it with a narrow focus that I, quite frankly, envy. She and Cole (and Ben, sometimes) have this thing where they focus on something and it's all they think about when they do it. Angel when she's the gunner in a fight. Cole when he flies. I only seem to get that for, like, bad holomovies. 

We sit in silence for a few minutes as she finishes with my right hand. When she straightens with a loud exhale, complaining about her back, I offer to turn on some music or something for background noise. She just looks up and smirks as I roll my eyes and flick two fingers on my left hand. Using the Force, I bring the TV remote from her nightstand and turn the thing on. 

"Sith hells, is nothing good on right now?" I mumble as Angel stands and goes to her mirror, taking out her curlers and fluffing her hair. 

"Don't move your hand," she replies. "You get nail polish on my bed and I'll kill you." 

"Sure, sure," I roll my eyes. "I won't mess up your blankets. But seriously, there is nothing _on_ right now." 

"It's noon, dumbass," she snarks, "Of course there's nothing on. The TV people assume that _most_ people are at work at the moment." 

"We aren't 'most people', are we?" I snicker, using air quotes around 'most people'. 

"No, we are not," she cracks a smile and fluffs her hair. It's curly naturally, heading towards wavy, but Angel likes it even _more_ curly. She's offered to curl my hair (or Cole's, or Ben's) a couple times, but I told her I'd look like an idiot with curly hair. Especially because my hair is a godawful mess, even when it's straight. Curly- I shudder. I'd look like a dog. That got a perm. A bad perm. 

I settle on a clearly on-a-budget show involving knock-off Jedi and smugglers. Angel groans when I read out the episode title. 

" _This_?" she complains. "This show sucks, Jay. It zaps away your brain cells. I can feel it happening right now." 

I laugh. "Yeah, it's stupid, but come on- we get to rant about what they got wrong about the Force." Onscreen one of the Jedi kicks a dude in black with a gun in the chest, and he collapses with an exaggerated shout. 

"It's not just the Force they got wrong," she mumbles. "Turn around, I'm getting changed." 

"Can do," I turn, facing the TV. "You gonna do my other hand after?" 

"Yeah," she says, and after a few seconds, she plops down on the bed again, in a pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt. "Gimme your hand." 

* * *

Ben takes a deep, shuddering breath, and puts his shields back up. Never mind that he does it slowly, methodically, like he's doing it for the first time. Like he doesn't want to close himself off again. But he has to, and so he does. 

Qui-Gon had asked him where he was, what had happened, if he was alright- the answers were _I can't say, Master, I lived, Master,_ and _I'm okay, Master. I'm alright._ And of course his master had seen through that last one. Ben sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. If he's going to be rational, he'll admit that he hasn't felt truly at peace in a long time. 

He's felt comfortable with his friends- but there was a different sort of _okay_ that came with Qui-Gon. He'd never been able to put a name to it, and part of him didn't want to. Whether or not Qui-Gon felt it too doesn't really matter either. As long as he'll tolerate Ben by his side. 

_Ben._

He'd specifically avoided saying his chosen name, and ignored the pang in his chest when the other man said his true one. If Qui-Gon could see him now, he wouldn't want to be anywhere near him. He'd touched the dark, for the love of the Force- he was supposed to be a Jedi and he'd touched, no, stuck his whole _hand_ into the darkness and _used_ it.

But so had he, once, on a planet called Felucia more than twenty years ago. Ben had witnessed his master's almost-descent to the dark. He was no stranger to it. Maybe he _wouldn't_ judge Ben for his use of it. But even if he didn't- Ben had still changed. His hand makes its way to the place where his Padawan braid still hung, tugged free from its usual pins during his... well, meltdown, for lack of a better word. 

The braid is an important part of any apprenticeship. When the partnership is over, the master severs the braid with his lightsaber. Or in cases where the Padawan is expelled from the Order, it is _ripped_ off. He winces at the thought. What makes him flinch more is his next thought- who is he to keep the braid? This physical reminder of his time with Qui-Gon- he promised himself almost two years ago that when it stopped hurting, he'd cut it off. What if it's holding him back now? What if it only stops hurting when he lets go of the past? 

Getting up, he walks to the full-length mirror by his closet. He unclips his lightsaber from his belt with one hand, and with the other, stretches out his braid. Flicking the activation plate, he closes his eyes, grits his teeth, and wonders idly when Jay cut his off. 

He mechanically moves his arm down, and the braid comes away in his hand. He doesn't dare open his eyes, even as he turns off the saber and tosses it onto the bed. He only opens them when he turns his back to the mirror. Looking down now, Obi-Wan's braid in Ben's hand- 

It still hurts, of course it does. There is no magical weight off his shoulders, no relief from the tears pricking at his eyes and clogging his throat. 

But a part of him is glad. Part of him says- _The past is dead now. Your_ _braid is cut, your master is gone, and you have no longer have obligation to the Jedi._

* * *

Ben bursts into the room about half an hour later, and the first thing I notice is his eyes, wild and bright. He's grinning, which is a stark contrast to his solemnity this morning. Jay looks up at him, then his gaze flicks to me, then back. 

"Hey, B," he says, and somehow the other man's smile only gets wider. 

"Jay, Angel," he grins. "Where's Cole?" 

"Should be in his room," Jay says, gesturing. His nails look pretty good, if I do say so myself. The dark navy blue has some glitter in it that shows when the light catches it right, and with Jay waving his hands around, I can see it from here. 

"Cool. Stay right here." Ben goes back out and we hear him knocking on Cole's door. We exchange a look and I go to mute the TV. 

"Something's off," I mumble. 

"Yeah," is all Jay has time to say before Ben drags Cole into the room and pushes him lightly so he sits down next to us on the bed. 

"So!" he says, and rubs at the back of his head viciously. "No braid." 

"Oh damn," Cole says succinctly, and Jay glances over, nodding his agreement. 

"Is this because of-" I start, but drop the rest of the sentence in case I'm wrong. 

"Partially," he shrugs. "But I thought it was time for a change. I said I'd cut it when it-" he waves. "All of this, when it stopped hurting. But I thought maybe it wouldn't stop until I did." 

"I'm proud of you, man," Jay says. "So you're feeling better, then?" 

"Never better," Ben beams. "You guys wanna go out?" 

"Out?" I ask, frowning a little. Ben's a homebody, and rarely goes out with Jay and Cole when they go drinking in town. 

"Yeah!" he says. "I haven't been out much. I want to have some fun." 

"Well okay then!" Jay stands up and claps his hands. "We're going as soon as it gets dark, okay? So-" he waves. "Get yourselves dolled up, or whatever." 

"Wait," Cole says. "Before you do anything, you should hear about this." He turns so he's looking at all of us, expression troubled.

"What?" I ask. 

"There's a guy in town. I heard about him on the way to get some more seeds for Ben," he explains. "He's staying at the local inn. And apparently, he's been digging around, trying to figure out who we are and why we're here." 

"People get curious," Jay shrugs. "It isn't as if we've given anyone a solid reason for us being here."

"The most people know is that we were smugglers," I add. 

"Yeah," Cole intertwines his fingers, then straightens them, then tangles them again. His nervous tic. "That's all well and good, except that the guy knows- and I don't know _how much_ he knows, but he knows about _us_." His look is meaningful, but I'm not making the connection. 

"What?" Ben asks, brow furrowed. 

"He knows about our time with the Jedi." he says bluntly. "He knows." 

"Goddammit," Jay mutters. I let out a slow exhale. Ben just closes his eyes and tips his head back.

"I don't know how much he knows," Cole repeats, raising his hands. 

"He knows enough, from what I'm hearing." 

"He-" 

"The Jedi _can't_ know about us, Cole," Jay runs a hand through his hair. "You know that. We _all_ know how much the Jedi like to hear about other Force users, especially ones with _lightsabers_."

Ben shakes his head. "No one on this planet knows anything. No one can prove him right." 

"No one can prove him _wrong,_ either," the dark-haired man growls. "I don't like this. I don't like our chances." 

"Yeah? And what happens if the Jedi do find us, huh?" I demand. "What happens?" 

"Were you even listening?" he turns to me. "The Jedi have this sort of _it's us or no one_ view of Force users. You're a Jedi or you're a Sith. You're with them or you're against them. They'd expose us at best, probably imprison us at worst." 

"They'll want to keep the peace, any way they can," Ben murmurs. "And they would see us as threats to that peace." 

"We're not, though," I protest. 

Cole just shakes his head. "They don't care." 

The room goes silent as everyone tries to process the information. 

"We're fucked," Jay says softly. 

"Yeah," I whisper. "We are."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, um, so that went well? *screams in plot*
> 
> like i said, i'm extending my schedule by a day, so it'll be four days between chapters. hope you guys don't mind :) 
> 
> anyway, drop a comment or kudos or something if you liked this chapter, cool? cool.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qui-Gon and Anakin are sent on their first mission together just as the Negotiator crew goes on a job. Their attempts to find out what the man in town really knows about them have turned out to be fruitless, although maybe they haven't been asking enough questions...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello and welcome back to stupidity: a star wars story. today we've got anakin being a little chaos child, proud dad qui-gon, and the queer quartet attracting attention from all the wrong people (and some of the right ones, but that's a story for a later chapter). it's gonna be great! stick around. 
> 
> also, i may have lied- chapters are gonna be updated in 3 days, sometimes 4. 3-4. epic? epic. 
> 
> cw for underage drinking 
> 
> starting off in COLE'S pov, BECAUSE IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME, then going on over to qui-gon, and then, real briefly, to jay. IM EXCITED! LET'S GO!

"That motherfucker better make sure I don't catch him alone," I hear Jay say. I look up to see him adjusting his hip holster as he walks into the connecting living room and kitchen. Ben, Angel and I are sitting around the small island in the middle of the kitchen, Angel doing Ben's makeup once more and leaving me to scroll through my datapad for any information that the man at the inn might have put online. 

"What, you're gonna jump him or something?" I snort.

"If I get the chance, yeah," he says, shooting me a look. I quickly shove away the flutter in his stomach at how _good_ Jay looks. Not the time. "I'm serious. We've spent so damn long trying to get out of the public eye and hoping everyone would forget us. I'm not about to let a crazy dude who thinks he knows us ruin what we've got going." 

"If by 'trying to get out of the public eye' you mean 'becoming known for shooting baddies' then sure," Angel mutters, but Jay ignores her. Even though she _is_ right. 

"I know," I say to him as soothingly as I can, as if she hadn't spoken. "I feel the same way, Jay. We just have to be careful, because he might actually know something. And if we're aggressive, he might make sure his information gets to people who will actually pay attention to it." 

"Yeah, yeah," the other man rolls his eyes, not meeting my gaze but I know he's calmer. "Are we going, or what?" 

"Yeah," Ben says. Angel caps her kohl pencil and shoves it into her pocket, hopping off her stool. 

"Lightsabers out of sight," I instruct, and the three of them nod, Angel securing hers under her jacket. Ben and Jay are already prepared, and I've got a blaster in my thigh holster, and another small one in my boot as is typical. Everyone carries a gun, if they're smart. 

Heading out the door, we talk a bit on the way into town. As we pass the inn, Jay stops us. 

"Hang on. If he's staying here whoever's on duty should know something about him, right?" He asks quietly. Angel and I nod. 

"Then we talk to whoever's on duty," He grins. He tries to peer through the window and see who's up, if he can get them to tell him anything. Whatever he sees makes his smile even more wicked, and he says, "Alright. Let's do it." 

He's opening the door in a split second and flashing his best smile at the woman behind the counter. Her name is April, if I remember correctly. She has ginger hair and pale blue eyes, with freckles dusted across her nose and on her cheeks. And she flushes when she sees Jay. I pointedly ignore the twisting jealousy beginning to form in my stomach. I've had to stand by and Jay flirt with everyone for four years, and I only really started minding about halfway through. 

"Hey, April," he says (so I'm not losing my memory! Stellar). 

"Hi," she replies, smiling back at him. 

"Got a question for you." Jay places an elbow onto the counter and leans against it ever so slightly. I swallow hard and look away as he lowers his tone as if this is a confidential conversation. "I heard the new guy's stayin' here." 

"He is." 

"Is he here? Me'n the guys just wanted to say hello, since we haven't met him yet. Officially." 

Oh, boy. He's pulling out the accent and the smile. The slow, wide smile that's gotten us a lot of things we weren't supposed to have in the past, and the accent that drops off "g" from the endings of words and is drawl-like. Heat climbs up into my stomach to match the jealousy. 

April smiles. "He just left, about ten minutes ago. I don't know where he was going." 

"Where is there to go around here, huh?" Jay says, arching an eyebrow and smirking. She giggles, cheeks pink. "Besides the bar, of course." 

"Yeah," and her voice is breathy. I roll my eyes so hard they give a little ache, and I think it's time to go. The heat is extinguished and the jealousy is threatening to climb up my throat and make me say some deeply unfortunate things.

"Alright, are we going to the bar or what?" I ask, tone brusque than I'd like. Jay shoots me a grin over his shoulder, and I struggle to keep my expression as disinterested as possible. 

"Yeah, yeah. They're so impatient," He says to April, and winks. She laughs again. 

"Have a good night, Jay," she says as he pulls away to join us again. 

"You too," He calls and grins at us as soon as his head is turned.

I keep my face carefully blank, but there's a dark edge that I can't keep out of my tone when I say, "Let's go," and sharply turn and push the door open. I hear Angel following me out. She bumps shoulders with me on the way to the bar, one of the only other places in this town that's open at this hour. 

"You feeling okay?" she asks quietly. 

I shoot her a look. "Yes. Why wouldn't I be?" 

Her lips quirk up in an almost-smile. "You seemed a bit snappish back there." 

"Just wanted to get on with it," I shrug, "I'd rather like to speak with this guy before he spreads any more rumors." 

She tips her head back and looks up at the stars coming out above us. "You know, you talk fancier when you're lying." 

Her nonchalance hits me hard. She _knows_. She _has_ to know. But it's none of her business. 

"I'm not." 

She just hums and doesn't reply. I shake my head and try to focus on the task at hand.

The bar isn't too far away from the inn, and Jay makes a point of going in first (it's sort of a thing now). And as soon as eyes are on him, his back straightens and his smile gets brighter. His voice is loud and his words carefully chosen, even though it never sounds like it. Once he flips that switch, it's like he's the brightest flame in the galaxy and everyone else are simply moths, drawn to him as he works the room. It's been four years and I still spend too much time staring at him when he's like this. I'm still drawn to his fire like I'm meeting him for the first time again. 

I chastise myself internally and go to get a drink. I can pine at home. For now, I've got work to do. I survey the place as I lean against the bar with a glass of whiskey somebody left behind that I can't bring myself to be concerned about. Jay's chatting up a pretty blonde girl, flashing his signature smile and leaning forward to catch something she said. I can hear his laughter above the rest of the noise in this place. 

Angel and Ben come up to me, Angel somehow has a beer in her hand. They're bickering about whether or not she should drink, and if it were any other night I'd have laughed and taken the bottle. But something's put a damper on my mood, and all I want is to get the information we need and get out. 

"That guy's lookin' at you," Angel says, arching an eyebrow and grinning slyly. 

"Oh?" I say. I'm not really interested but hey- if Jay's allowed to have fun, so am I. I look up. He's a blonde human, a few inches taller than me, with pale skin and piercings. And his gaze is dark and undeniably interested. I pull Angel's move, arching a brow and raising my glass in his direction just a bit. I see him push off the wall and know that that's my cue to turn back to the bar, to Angel and Ben. Ben flashes a smile at me, grabs Angel's wrist, and pulls her over to a quieter corner, where I see him take her beer. I snort. 

The blonde is walking over when I look back. He smiles at me and gestures at my almost-empty glass. 

"Can I buy you another one of those?" he asks. 

"Be my guest," I say, returning his smile. As he signals to the bartender I notice Jay looking over and not paying too much attention to the girl next to him anymore. I just smile wider and take the glass the blonde guy offers me. 

"I'm Nate," he says, voice low and gravely. 

"Cole," I reply. We make small talk for a bit until he asks if I want to dance, which I actually sort of do. He grabs my hand and leads me out onto the dance floor, where some pop song is being played by an alien DJ with four arms. I giggle, even though it's really not that uncommon. Must be the alcohol. 

We spend more time out there than I thought, and by the end of it I'm a blushy, giggly mess, hanging off of Nate with one arm looped around his neck. His hands are on my hips and he's whispering in my ear. But my head is spinning too much to make out his actual words. It's fun. It's way more fun that standing at the bar all night being a pining loser. 'Cause Jay might not want me, but there are definitely other people who do. His hair color is wrong, and he's taller than Jay is, but I can overlook it. I'm sure with the amount of whiskey I've had, at this point, I could overlook anything. What can I say? I'm a lightweight. 

There's a sudden tug on my arm. It's Jay, who looks like he's trying to hide the very obvious fact that he's pissed. 

"Cole. We gotta go." 

Nate just tugs me closer, shooting Jay a smirk that makes a spark of heat shoot down my spine. "Looks like he's having a good time right here." 

Jay glares. "I wasn't talking to you. Cole, come on," he takes my hand and tugs lightly. 

"Okay," I grin easily, letting go of Nate, but kissing him on the cheek as I leave. I'm not drunk enough that I can't walk a straight line, or that I'll say stupid things, but I am pleasantly warm and definitely in a better mood than I was coming in. And did I leave Nate hanging? Yes. Do I care, mostly because of how Jay's eyes look in the colored lights? No. 

He just looks me up and down, like he's looking for something. But instead of saying anything about it, he just turns and walks out. I cast my eyes around the bar. Angel and Ben must be outside waiting for us. 

"Alright," Jay says tersely when we meet up with them. "The guy skipped town a couple hours ago. So we can't talk to him. But I got a girl he talked to to tell me what he was spreading around about us." I nod, sobering up pretty quickly. "That we have powers," he says, "And since we're not Jedi anymore, that means we've turned bad. We're dark-siders, and that means we're dangerous." 

* * *

"How would you feel about going on your first official mission?" 

Anakin's face breaks into a huge, bright smile. He's almost vibrating with excitement.

"Really, master? A mission?" 

"Yes," Qui-Gon smiles at his apprentice. "The Jedi Council has asked us to go to the planet of Timora and negotiate with their rulers." 

"Cool!" Anakin says. "Will I get a chance to use my lightsaber?" he grabs the item from his belt and holds it out, looking at it with undisguised glee. He'd gone with a few other Padawans and assembled his lightsaber seven months earlier, and his blade shone bright blue. Qui-Gon couldn't be prouder of him. 

"If we run into trouble, but that's unlikely," he says. Anakin pouts (although, if asked, he will viciously deny it and say that _Jedi don't pout_ ) and re-clips his weapon. 

He's very talented, Qui-Gon has noticed. Anakin has a natural affinity for not only wielding the Force, but also for his lightsaber technique. Even though he had started training later than his crechemates when he first began, he still rivaled all of them in a short time. The boy will be eleven soon, and already he seems to innately know skills most don't master until _well_ into their apprenticeships. Already he can see Anakin working with Form IV, _Ataru._ It's the Aggression Form, involving acrobatics and remaining almost strictly on the offense. 

As for Timora, Mace had come to him earlier that morning and asked if he thought Anakin was ready for a mission. He'd said yes, and so he'd spent the next hour or so reading over the mission report. The Outer Rim planet was dealing with a smuggler problem. Now, that on its own was not the issue- almost every planet had problems with smugglers. And as much as the Republic tried to crack down on it, the galaxy was simply too big, and smugglers too resourceful to be shut down completely. It was that a particularly adept group of them were acting up on Timora specifically. 

Smugglers that deviated from the usual- shipping stolen goods- are rare. Some do become involved with gangs, and take more dangerous jobs, but this report says that this particular group have started focusing more on more justice-oriented stunts as of late. People call them the "Knights", and all that the authorities have been able to scrape together about them is that they do jobs for free, if you ask. 

Nobody on Timora knows how many of them there are, although most people the government have asked said there are somewhere between three and seven of them. Which is oddly low, Qui-Gon thinks, so they must either have help, or some powerful weapons. It's worrying, however, that three to seven people have managed to do so much on one planet in so little time. So there's every reason to believe they're not just _any_ people with good weapons and good help. 

He walks Anakin to a group meditation session, and goes back to their quarters to review the report. The Knights of Timora have captured his attention, and besides- the more he knows about the mission, the better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 12th chapter?? shook. 
> 
> i'm still not at all sure where this is going or what my plot ideas are. i had some stuff plotted out but that's already been written and put out so idk. i'm gonna try and plan a bit more so i know how to pace stuff and whatever. 
> 
> edit literally a day later: i have shit plotted! prepare for politics, vigilantes, and anarchy. it's gonna be wild! but with a happy ending, of course. 
> 
> ALSO: i'm now invested way more in cole (my MANS) and his character development, so you can count on some more of him. also pining. so much more. it's just- it's so much. i love these four, but they are all dense idiots in their own special ways. somebody's gonna have to knock some sense into all of them, because if they don't- well, they'll be idiots forever, or something. 
> 
> anyway, if you liked this, drop a comment or a kudos! love you guys <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qui-Gon Jinn and Anakin Skywalker talk about Qui-Gon's previous apprentice on their way to the planet Timora. 
> 
> At the same time, the Negotiator crew accepts yet another job, Ben has started stress-baking, and they just might be on the wrong planet at the wrong time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go, fellas! plot time!! today we have some politics and the very beginning of some anarchy. and don't you worry, we're going to get our quiobi pretty soon, so keep an eye out for that! 
> 
> how the fUCK is this 30k words now? what- who?? the most i've ever written for any one project is 25k, and that's rounding up. AND i still have a shit ton more to write. huh?? excuse?? 
> 
> anyway, today it's jay's turn to open us up, then qui, then jay briefly. i like this chapter, and you're gonna see why later ;)

"How would you guys feel about another job?" I ask the guys the next morning at breakfast. I don't make eye contact with Cole, still feeling just a bit bitter about last night. Look, I know it's not my place to comment on who Cole chooses to spend his time with. It's not my business. But seeing him, all cozied up to a blonde douche and looking really fucking _happy about it_ to boot- 

Well, it's none of my business. I drape myself all over people, girls and guys alike, so if Cole decides to do it, who cares? He's got every right to. It doesn't matter to me, as long as he isn't getting hurt. Because I don't like him like that, you know? It _doesn't matter._

I shake my head and focus back on the question I've just asked. Ben's leaning against the fridge, Angel is sitting on the kitchen counter and practicing her fine Force manipulation skills (with apparently every single piece of silverware we have) and Cole's nursing a glass of water and looking hungover. 

"Another one?" Angel looks up from the floating forks. 

"Yeah," I say, reaching up and stretching, arching my back. "Some crooked police commissioner on Timora. Almost everyone under his jurisdiction wants him dead, and that's including his own officers." I look back at the three of them just in time to see Cole swallow hard and look away. 

Timora's a planet in the same system as Bakura, with much more crime. The government's notoriously weak, and can't keep a handle on their people. It's where we get most of our jobs, and I think they have a name for us up there. I don't remember it now, but I think it's kind of funny that we even have one. But in any case, crime runs rampant on Timora, and we've sort of taken on the job of stopping it. 

"Sounds good," Ben nods. "When are we leaving, today?" 

"I was hoping to, yeah," I say, trying to remember the exact details of the request. "Something about tonight he's going to promote some asshole who's got no respect for women." 

Cole shakes his head. "Oh, yeah then. We're going." Angel nods, using the Force to sort the silverware into forks, knives and spoons. 

"Tonight?" Ben asks. "We can get there before the commissioner does anything, take him out. But I was going to bake today." 

"For baked goods? Absolutely," I say with mock seriousness. He cracks a grin and turns to ask Angel to help him bake. And by the time I look over at Cole, the space where he'd been sitting is empty and I can hear his faint footsteps on the stairs. It all feels off, although I seem to be the only one who noticed. 

I go upstairs and watch trashy TV while disassembling and cleaning my lightsaber as I do so. It's a methodical skill that never fails to calm me down. And that's what keeps me occupied for a few hours until I smell it. _Cookies._

I dash downstairs to see that Ben's original plan of _just_ making brownies has devolved into every flat surface in our kitchen being covered in various baked goods. Not that I'm complaining- if this is how he wants to handle anxiety, cool. Doesn't hurt anyone. Although if he does this too often, I'm going to get diabetes.

"Um, B?" Angel asks, from where she's setting the timer for the oven. That thing must be working double-time to keep up with the sheer amount of _stuff_ being made. Looks like Cole's going shopping again soon.

"Yes?" he replies, and his voice is surprisingly steady for how viciously he's stirring batter right now. 

"Any reason in particular that we're starting our own bakery in here?" she says tentatively. 

"It's relaxing," Ben says, as if it were obvious. 

I snort, pushing myself off the wall and going to nab a cookie. "Yeah," I say, "But what's eating at you, man?" I stifle a snort at my unintentional pun. "What's goin' on up there?" I point at his head, not wanting to risk his reaction if I tapped at his temples right now. 

He puts down the spoon and sighs, turning to us. "I just have a bad feeling about this." 

"About the job, or about the batter?" I ask, smirking and arching an eyebrow. 

Ben rolls his eyes. "The job, dumbass. Don't you read the news at all? Timora's dealing with a group of anarchists. Running around, setting things on fire, the whole nine yards." 

"And of course the government isn't doing anything," Angel chimes in. 

"What _can_ they do?" It's my turn to roll my eyes. "Got no control over anybody or anything. Practically just there for show." 

"The police are corrupt," Ben nods and continues. "And they only do their jobs when it suits them, which is why we're taking this job. But- I don't know. I just have a bad feeling about it." 

There's silence for a moment, before I cut in again. 

"Look, it's gonna be an easy job, okay?" I say, trying to be reassuring. "In and out. We shoot the commissioner, we leave." 

"I know," he says, but his expression is still troubled. 

"You wanna take a break for a bit? Work out or something?" I ask. 

After a second, he nods. "Sure." 

* * *

They have only been on the ship for about fifteen minutes when Qui-Gon notices something (besides the additional mission report) occupying Anakin's mind. Knowing his apprentice, until he gets it out of his system, he'll be distracted the whole way to the Outer Rim, so Qui-Gon has to ask. 

"A little distracted, are we?" 

Anakin's head shoots up. He shakes his head, "Sorry, Master. I'm just thinking." 

"About what?" he asks. It's not like him to not elaborate on things that confuse him. 

"I just- I heard some of the other Padawans talking," he says. "Siri Tachi especially. They were talking about- about Obi-Wan, Master." 

Qui-Gon does his best to not let his surprise show on his face, in his voice. What reason would they have for talking about him _now,_ after two years? And Siri Tachi, the girl Obi-Wan used to be infatuated with as a younger Padawan- But he thinks Anakin sees the shock in the slight stiffening of his posture anyway.

"What were they saying?" 

"Just stuff," Anakin shrugs, "But they were talking about how he'd have reacted to something. Nothing big, Master." Qui-Gon waits, because it's clear Anakin has more to say. "I just... I wanna know... what was he like?" 

The older Jedi has to let out an almost shuddering breath at this. He knew questions like this would arise, but he hadn't been expecting them this late. Still, it's jarring to hear Obi-Wan's name from the mouth of someone that isn't him. And while he knows, knows _now_ that Obi-Wan is alive, that doesn't make it any better. Yes, the man is alive, but he had actively chosen not to return to the Jedi, to _him._ He hadn't said anything about why when he'd opened up their bond again. 

When he'd told Qui-Gon everything, and yet simultaneously nothing at all. Not why he'd left, or who he was with, or where he was, but that he couldn't say anything about those things. 

"He was a good Jedi," and his voice betrays his inner tumult. "And a good man." He swallows. "He was killed by a Sith lord, on Naboo two years ago. He was trying to protect me, and he died doing it." It is so difficult to say that Obi-Wan died, when he is truly alive. But as far as Anakin knows, as far as _anyone_ knows, his Padawan is dead. He has so little information, and a selfish part of him wants to keep this part to himself. 

"He was going to be a Knight," Anakin says slowly. "You said he was ready." 

"He was," Qui-Gon nods. And here he is finally on familiar ground, here he is sure of something. "Obi-Wan was ready to face the trials. I'm sure that if he had survived, he would have been made a Knight when we returned." 

"He loved you, you know," the blonde boy looks over at him, face impassive. 

"I know," he whispers. "I know he did. I loved him too." _So why does it hit him like a lightsaber to the chest to hear it?_

"He _loved_ you," Anakin insists, putting emphasis on _loved._ Like Qui-Gon is missing something. His brow furrows. His Padawan closes his eyes for a moment (as if _he_ is the master, which would be laughable in any other situation) and says, slower, "All my friends' masters love them, like how my mom loves me. And my friends love _them_ , like how I love her. He didn't do that." 

"You have given me a lot to think about, Padawan," Qui-Gon manages to get out after a few moments, leaning back in his chair and trying to stem the flow of anxiety that's begun to spread through him. Anakin just nods and gives Qui-Gon the illusion of privacy as he turns to the controls of the ship. 

They arrive on Timora about an hour later. Qui-Gon had excused himself to go and meditate, although what he was really doing was trying to get it together enough to talk to authority figures on the planet. He hasn't been this jittery about _anything_ since- well, since he was still Dooku's Padawan. However, by the time the ship lands, he is prepared enough to take control once more. 

When they leave the ship, Anakin's eyes wide and gaze darting everywhere, they're greeted by the King of Timora (a decorative title, if anything) and two of his advisors, Lord Emeran, a prominent figure in the Timoran royal court, and Lady Janis, his wife. Both are wickedly smart, controlling both the King and his people without either truly knowing it. If they hadn't been running the planet into the ground, Qui-Gon would feel more inclined to acknowledge their clear talents.

Emeran bows, fixing them both with an assessing look, while Janis is perfectly composed, smiling as she sweeps into a deep curtsy. King Andrew smiles, nodding his head to the Jedi Master and his Padawan. 

"Welcome to Timora!" the King says, his smile growing wider. 

"We were going to greet you with a bit more... _fanfare,_ but-" Lady Janis says, voice soft and lilting. She directs her gaze to the King as she rises from her curtsy. Qui-Gon has to hide his frown. It's unlike a courtier to have this much influence over the King the way Lady Janis seems to, dipping her head to him like _she's_ inviting _him_ to speak. Lord Emeran likely exhibits the same behavior.

"You are aware of our predicament," the King says with a wry smile. 

"That we are," Qui-Gon says. "May I introduce my Padawan learner, Anakin Skywalker." He looks over and sees Anakin smile at the King and his courtiers. Lady Janis smiles back- not what he expected from a woman as cold and calculating as she. But then, this could be part of her act. Emeran just nods, face impassive. He takes note of this- this almost 'good cop/bad cop' routine from the both of them. 

"Now that we are all acquainted," His Highness says, clapping his hands. "If you will follow me to the transport. We have a lot to talk about." Qui-Gon murmurs his assent, and guides Anakin into the royal vessel. 

* * *

We're landing on Timora. Ben is trying to hide his anxiety, and is doing quite well at it. The only way I know that he's still nervous is by Cole's minute reaction to seeing him while boarding the ship. Cole's always been good with people. Angel is fiddling with her lightsaber, but as we land she clips it under her jacket. I stand as Cole turns off the autopilot and lands the _Negotiator_ in a swamp. 

This is where we always land- away from public eye, and boggy and green and _muddy_ enough that nobody would come traipsing through here and see our ship. The downside is that it's boggy and green and muddy. It's pretty gross. 

But this time I don't make any cracks about the bog, because Ben's anxiety has lit a tiny flame under mine, and I just want to be sure we're doing this right. As our notoriety on this planet grows (thank the stars nobody knows how many of us there are, or what we look like, or anything beyond what jobs we've done), I get more nervous. It's more of a chance to get caught. And there's a fine line to walk between notoriety, but still remaining unknown, and notoriety except that we're out in the open and everyone knows us. 

The plan is to wait until nightfall to kill the commissioner. That way we're hidden and we can get away easier. But until then, we're going bar hopping. So when we come across a nearby bar, I open the door and grin at the man behind the counter cleaning glasses with a rag. 

"What can I get you guys?" he asks, eyeing Angel for a second, but then deciding that she looks old enough to be here. 

"Somethin' light for me," I say, turning on the charm so hopefully I don't have to pay for these. "Gin and tonic? Go easy on the tonic, though. I got plans for tonight." I wink. He nods and turns to everyone else- Angel gets the same, but with a little more tonic (steady on, there), and Ben and Cole pass. 

Speaking of Cole, Angel grabs his arm and pulls him over to a corner for a second, talking quickly, brows furrowed. Probably about the job. I turn back to my drink, Ben sitting next to me. We talk idly, about absolutely nothing in particular until Cole and Angel come back, when we start discussing the job in hushed voices. 

Suddenly the door to the place bangs open and a couple burly dudes saunter in, the lead one talking loudly. 

"So I turn the corner, right? And what do I see? I see a couple'a _Jedi_ standin' there! 'Parently the King called 'em in 'cause of the _Knights_." 

"Coward," another snorts as they start to order drinks. Ben looks over, blue-green eyes wide. 

"We should go," he whispers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things might get a little crazy around the holidays, just as a fair warning. but happy early christmas if you celebrate it! if you don't, happy end of december! i sure as hell hope 2021 treats us better than 2020. love yall <3 
> 
> if you liked this chapter, drop a comment and/or kudos! they're hella helpful for making me write better (and faster!).


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qui-Gon and Anakin get the run-down on the vigilantes known as the Knights, as Jay, Ben, Angel and Cole try to figure out why the Jedi are on Timora, and just how much danger they're really in. And Jay makes a decision that might alter the group forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome back to the squad! i hate to say it, but we might be closer to the ending now than i thought 0.0 i'm not ready
> 
> CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNING FOR A VERY, VERY BRIEF, PASSING MENTION OF RAPE. THERE ARE NO DETAILS. 
> 
> today we're chilling in cole's pov, then anakin's, for the second time in this fic, then jay's!

Jay grabs Ben's sleeve to stop him from getting up and attracting attention. 

"Wait. We should find out what they know. We don't even know if it's him or not." The _him_ doesn't even have to be explained- there's really only one man that gets that sort of treatmentin our vocabulary. 

Ben fixes him with a look, but nods and forces himself to look relaxed. Jay nods once, almost imperceptibly, and turns his attention to his drink. I just fix my eyes on the menu above the bar, eyes not focusing on any of the words. 

"I saw 'em, the Jedi," one of the men in the group, shorter than the rest, says. "There was one really tall one, with long hair'n a beard, an' a little blonde one." 

I tense. From both Ben and Angel's descriptions, the Jedi the man is describing are Qui-Gon Jinn and Anakin Skywalker. I don't like this. Angel's bond with Anakin can be controlled, I know that much. But what if Anakin can't? What if it gives us away? Ben's bond with Jinn, I'm less worried about that one. Ben can control it. And even if he wasn't able to, Jinn absolutely could. Both bonds are unlikely to expose us, but I have a bad feeling about this. The tension in the air here, at least to me, is almost palpable. I've never liked tension. 

The lead man laughs loudly, startling me. He's signaling for the bartender. "A tall dude and a _kid_? _These_ are the dudes the King's callin' in to stop the Knights?" 

Another one shrugs. "Like they could stop the _Knights._ " 

Angel shoots the rest of us a look (complete with waggling eyebrows) at this. I just roll his eyes back. This is just a reminder that it's a good thing that nobody knows too much. 

"Right?" the short guy says. "And why would we want 'em gone in the first place? This trash heap's safer now than it's been in fuckin' forever." 

"Damn right," the first man crows, waving his beer around. "Those guys saved my daughter from gettin' raped a week ago. Me'n the wife had a damn good time beating the crap outta that kid." A cheer goes up among the group, and among the sentiments expressed are "fuck that motherfucker!" and "dumbass piece of shit!". 

Jay glances at us. "I think we know enough now," he whispers. Ben and I nod, and Angel throws back the rest of her drink before getting up. Jay tosses a few credits onto the bar, and Ben's the first to go. Nobody but the bartender picking up Jay's money noticing us as we leave. 

"It's him," Ben turns and says to us as we leave the bar. "It's Qui-Gon and Anakin. We can't do this." 

Angel crosses her arms grimly. "As much as I'd like to see Ani, Ben's right. There's too much risk. Ordinary people would never put two and two together, hell, other _Jedi_ wouldn't, but Ani and Master Jinn have history with us. History that could tie us to this place if they connected the dots." I nod in agreement. 

"Then it's good we're only taking down one guy," Jay says, running a hand through his hair. " _One_ , you guys. Then we can take off, and boom, no dots connected." 

"I don't like this," I mumble, studiously ignoring the glance Jay shoots my way. 

"One person," he insists. "It won't take long, and we'll steer clear of the Jedi as long as they're here." 

Ben shakes his head. "You know as well as I do that they could be here for longer than we can afford to stay away." 

"Yeah," he says, "But that's the benefit of planets- the Jedi can't be everywhere at once. We'll stick to the backwater places. No cities, no clubs, nothing. But only if they're here for too long." 

Ben closes his eyes and takes a breath. "Okay." 

"Is that an 'okay' for doing the job, or 'okay' meaning, like, 'yeah, I hear you, but I'm not doing it'?" 

"It's an 'okay' for doing the job," he says, eyes still closed. His blue-green eyes open to reveal equal parts determination and anxiety. I can almost taste his fear, but I don't mention it. I know no one else can sense it. That and he, and we all, have very good reasons to be afraid of the Jedi. Especially now. Ben's reasons might be more personal than the rest of us and ours, but that doesn't make it any less reasonable or valid. I look away just as he turns his gaze to me. 

Jay's talking about some other place we can crash until nightfall, and Ben lags behind so he can walk with me. 

"I'm sick of this," he says without preamble. I nod to show that I'm listening, but it doesn't feel like there's anything helpful I can say right now. So I don't say anything. "Can't you do anything good in this galaxy without the Jedi being involved somehow?" He sighs and looks down at his shoes. "I'm tired of my past- _our_ past- following us around." 

"Yeah," I murmur, letting him talk. 

"I wish I could get over this," Ben hangs his head. "And if I can't- I wish I wasn't scared to see him again." 

"You're afraid that if you see him again, he won't like what he'll be seeing," I say, and it's not even a question, because I know it's true. I dug for it, I saw it. He knows that. We both know the truth in the statement. 

"Yeah," he exhales a tiny, rueful laugh. "That's not even all of it, though." And he looks over at me. 

I know he can't say it, I know why, so I say it for him. "You're scared that if he doesn't like what he sees, he'll regret training you in the first place. And that he'll hate you like Jay's old master hates him." 

"You just _had_ to hit the nail on the head there, didn't you."

"Guess so," I say softly. "You know- I'm here. And Jay's here, and Angel, and we're all here for you, B. The way you're always there for us. It's a two-way street. Or four, if you want to look at it that way." I offer him a tiny smile. 

"I know," he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice as he says it.

* * *

Admittedly, during the introductions Anakin wasn't paying too much attention. But when he and Master Qui-Gon arrived at the royal palace close to nightfall, and the King started talking about a bunch of crime-fighters, he quickly started listening. 

"There are at least three or four of them," a head advisor says. Anakin's forgotten his name. "And they're very fast, efficient fighters. What little security footage we have shows at least two of them every time they strike." 

"Any more than four?" Qui-Gon asks. 

"Not that we've seen, but some eyewitnesses have reported seeing five." Qui-Gon just nods, his face doing that _thing_ where Anakin can't figure out what he's thinking. Which is frustrating. 

"Their primary weapons seem to be blasters, and they focus their crusades on the poorer parts of the capital," the advisor continues. 

"We have evidence of their involvement in multiple deaths, raids and theft of property, especially theft of _sentient_ property. " the King butts in, his tone oozing distaste. Anakin furrows his brow- _sentient property_?

And then it sinks in- _slaves._ The Knights are stealing slaves, and from what he remembers of the mission report, they've also killed corrupt politicians and bad men across the planet. So they wouldn't be stealing slaves to use for themselves, Anakin reasons- they have to be setting them free. _This_ is what the King is mad about? 

His anger must leak through his shields, because Master Qui-Gon shoots him a look that tells him to _get it together._ So he tries, he really does, to tamp down his anger. But the King is mad about slaves being freed? He's learned that the Republic doesn't allow slavery on their planets. And as far as he knows, Timora is in the Republic. 

But it's like his mom said once- the Republic doesn't exist in the Outer Rim. People have to fend for themselves. And it sounds like the Knights are doing that- fending for themselves, and everybody else, too. 

Anakin saves his questions for when they go to their quarters. Master Qui-Gon likes that he asks questions, but he knows this isn't the right time to ask them. But in his opinion, the Knights are better than the King, by far. 

After they're shown their quarters, as soon as the door closes behind one of the court ladies, Anakin whirls on his master. Qui-Gon is already seated, taking off his boots and outer robe. 

"He's mad that the Knights are freeing slaves?" he demands. 

His master fixes him with a look. "You came to the conclusion that they're being freed?" 

"They have to be," Anakin insists. "The mission report, everything else they've done, they can't be selling them or using them for themselves." 

"True," Qui-Gon concedes. "But yes. The King and the government are concerned about their loss of property." 

" _People_ aren't _property_ ," the blonde Padawan says, sulking just a little. 

"No, they are not," Qui-Gon agrees. "No, they are not." 

* * *

We're at a club as the night approaches. I've had a few drinks, yes, but I'm not trashed, or anywhere close, not really. But I _have_ decided that I need to do something about my feelings for Cole, and I don't know if it's going to be fucking it out or telling him I love him yet. I figure I'll decide if when I do it. 

Because I spent most of today, while we were bar hopping, trying to figure out what my issue was with Cole dancing with somebody else a couple nights ago. Plus the weird (but not new) feelings and thoughts I have around him, and I realized I've been a fucking idiot all this time. I realized that, shit _,_ I'm in _love_ with Cole and it takes the breath out of me every time I think about it. And now Angel and Ben's knowing looks make sense- they knew and didn't say anything. Thank the stars. 

The colored lights and the music (some song with a killer bass line and some dude singing about _where did the party go_ ) and the drinks give me courage I would definitely not have otherwise. And so I scan the room, seeing Cole and Angel out on the dance floor as Ben gets Cole another drink. I let a grin onto my face as an idea crosses my mind, and get up, cutting through the crowd with a single-minded determination. Angel points me out over Cole's shoulder, and he turns and smiles at me. The lights catch in his eyes, in his hair, and _holy mother of the gods he is beautiful_ but then looks confused when I don't stop a friendly distance away. 

It's because of the adrenaline rush, and it's because of the music (I actually recognize the new song!), and it's definitely because I'm damned tired of waiting to grow a pair that I grab both of Cole's hands and press up against him, smiling up at him. 

" _When you're all alone, and if you're feeling_ _down_ ," I lean up and purr the words into his ear. " _Call me, I'll be around._ " I feel, more than I hear Cole's little gasp, and I can't stop a breathless laugh. " _Whenever you need somebody, I'll bring my love to_ _you_ ," I begin to move us in a tiny dance, fingers still interlocked, and I press my hips to his just to hear his breath hitch. " _You don't have to say you love me, I just wanna be with you._ " 

_Yeah_ , _I love him._

He rips away, tearing his hands from mine. His eyes are wide with shock, and suddenly I remember why I haven't done anything before now. Cole doesn't like me. I don't even know if he likes guys. I've just made everything awkward forever at best, and fucked up a perfectly good friendship at absolute worst. 

After a few seconds, I finally unfreeze just in time to watch Cole brush past Angel quickly, pushing the door open and leaving. 

Fuck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE OR SMTH IF YOU CELEBRATE IT! HOW ARE YOUR HOLIDAYS GOING? I HOPE THEY'RE GOING WELL. AND DONT WORRY- WE'LL BE AT THE CLIMAX OF THIS THING PRETTY SOON, SO THERE WON'T BE TOO MUCH BUILDUP OR ANYTHING. THE CLIMAX REALLY STARTS NEXT CHAPTER >:) SO GET READY. 
> 
> if you liked this, drop a comment or kudos! they give me motivation to write


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jay and Ben kill a man, and after, they run into a familiar face from Ben's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter of 2020! here's hoping 2021 is better. hope you have a good new year and had a merry christmas, or a happy whatever holiday you celebrate! this chapter is a bit late because i took christmas day off from writing. hope you don't mind! 
> 
> we've got some plot here, boys, so buckle up! this time we're starting in jay's pov, then ben's.

"Angel, Cole, you guys are on lookout," I direct, glancing down at his datapad and absentmindedly fidgeting with it. "B and I are gonna make sure this guy goes down, but you gotta make sure we're not busted." 

The brown haired girl nods, looking over at Cole, who is... pointedly not looking at any of us. A flash of guilt hits me in the gut. I sang some love song to him and danced with him like he was one of the girls I flirt with so often all of twenty minutes ago. Possibly ruined a friendship. And looking over at Angel, who isn't looking at me either, just nodding at Ben for whatever reason, lips pressed tightly together, I know there's no time for confessions of love or explanations- we have a job to do. 

Angel nods to me, lifts the hood of her black robe and slips into the crowd. Cole is quick to follow. Ben and I head in the opposite direction, toward the police station. 

As we walk (silently, which is unusual), I turn my attention to what happened at the bar. Arguably, we need to know as much as possible about the Jedi on Timora. Namely, what they're investigating. I look over at Ben- he's reaching for his Padawan braid that's no longer there (still don't know what happened with that), notices, and pulls his hand away like he's been burned. I get the sense it's something I shouldn't be seeing, and look away. 

Night is falling quickly- the clubs are alive and the children frequenting the dusty streets are being ushered inside. But I feel cold and apprehensive. And I get similar feelings from Ben when I reach out to him through the Force. I have a bad feeling about this job- a bad feeling that wasn't here twenty minutes ago. But then, maybe it's the situation with Cole, but either way, that situation isn't good and isn't helping. 

As we reach the station, Angel switches on her comm. I can hear the movement in my earpiece. 

" _You're all clear. We're on the roof of the station, everything looks good._ " 

I flick the switch to talk to her. "Good. We're almost there." 

Ben and I exchange a quick glance. He turns into an alley, starting to climb a ladder that goes up to the roof of the building across from the police station. People are already gathering in front of said station, the new commissioner strutting around like a peacock. 

"I'm glad that bastard dies tonight," I mutter. Ben snorts. "What?" I laugh quietly. "He and his crew were taking bribes to turn their heads while gangs take over this place." 

"I know," Ben says, man of few words that he seems to be tonight. "Get your bandanna ready." 

My bandanna, yeah. They're so we can tell each other apart in the dark- Ben, when he reaches the roof, reaches for his- a black bandanna. When he puts it on he ties it over his nose and mouth. I pull my red one out of my pocket and fasten it around my head but under my hair, almost like a crown. Angel's is purple, and when she wears it, she loops it around her neck and then pulls it over her face, except for her eyes. Cole usually ties his yellow bandanna around his wrist. 

Ben's pulling his blaster from its holster. I hand him my silencer and he clips it on quickly. We creep to the edge of the roof and I feel Ben reach out with the Force to keep tabs on the commissioner. 

My earpiece crackles and Angel's voice comes through again. 

" _Can we just take out as many cops as we can_? _Guns blazing, and all that_?" 

"No," Ben replies first. He's right- too much risk, as much as I'd like to do it as well. She sighs petulantly, but signs off and, by looking over at the police station roof, I know she and Cole are keeping out of sight. Good. 

"Now," Ben says into his earpiece, and fires. The commissioner drops, a blaster bolt hitting him in the forehead. I hear screams from below, and, peering over the edge of the building, I see panicked officers racing around. But they don't know anything. I let out a laugh as pandemonium ensues around us. Ben looks over with a smile on his face. I know he's just as happy as I am. 

"Let's scram," he says. 

* * *

Ben lets Jay scramble down the ladder first. He's been distracted the whole time, and he really should get away and try to relax. The anxiety in his stomach feels like it's physically dragging him down, and he has to get rid of it somehow. 

He tells Jay quickly he's going to take a walk, and yes, he _will_ keep his bandanna up until everything calms down or he gets back to the ship, whichever comes first. As he thinks, and walks, he notices- his feet are leading him to the one peaceful spot he knows on Timora. The public gardens, which are dangerously close to the King's _already_ dangerously close castle. But _nothing is going to happen,_ he tells his anxious brain, and walks into the place. 

As he scales the tall fence (they lock the gardens at night), he is reminded, eerily, of the Room of a Thousand Fountains at the Jedi Temple. And it's more of a greenhouse, if anything- fountains all about, shrubbery around them. Birds have built nests in some of the trees, he notices, but if anything, the entire garden only serves as a stark contrast to the concrete and metal jungle that surrounds it. 

Ben chooses a stone bench, disables his earpiece, and sits there, not keeping track of the time. If Jay and the rest of the crew need him, they'll call. But they haven't, and if he gets worried, he can always track them using the mini stick-on trackers they all put on before missions, assuming they haven't taken them off. So he is free to sit and let his mind wander. 

"A little late to be watching the birds, hm?" asks a deep voice from beside him.

_No._

It takes every ounce of restraint Ben has not to startle. The voice is warm, achingly familiar. Of course Qui-Gon Jinn would try to befriend a stranger in a dark place on a concrete jungle of a planet. But he swallows hard, and, forcing himself to answer, he replies.

"I was merely thinking." 

"About what, if you don't mind me asking?" the Jedi inquires, sitting down next to him. Ben is suddenly glad for his bandanna, and that the hood of his robe falls over his face. 

"These gardens," Ben says, without thinking. He's starting to notice that conversation with Qui-Gon is just as easy now as it was two years ago. "I've been coming to Timora for-" he pauses. "Maybe eight months? And aside from this place and the swamps, I've never once seen a tree." Ben laughs lowly at the absurdity of it. 

"Eight months?" the Jedi huffs out a quiet laugh. "I've just arrived today. There isn't a single tree on this planet?" 

"Not that I've seen." Ben answers, his smile evident in his voice. They sit in silence for a few moments as a cool breeze rustles the leaves on the bushes. 

"You're a Jedi," he states, regretting it the second it's out of his mouth. Especially when he feels Qui-Gon tense from beside him. It's not a movement anyone else would notice, but then, Ben is not _anyone else._ He knows this man better than anyone on this planet (which also is not a great claim for him- it's him and Anakin, and he would win that toss-up). 

"How would you know?" Qui-Gon asks. 

"Just by looking at you." 

"You haven't looked at me at all," he says shrewdly. 

Ben laughs. "Yes. I suppose you're right." He takes a chance and glances at his former master without moving his head. Qui-Gon isn't looking at him, but he probably knows Ben's looking now. And he looks- the same as he always has. Broad shoulders, long brown hair streaked with grey. It's comforting. Everything else has changed so much, but Qui-Gon, immovable object that he is, has remained largely the same. It makes him tear up a little. But he has secrets to keep. So as tempting as it is to reveal himself (or at least _part_ of himself) to the Master Jedi, he can't. So instead, he goes fishing for information. 

"What are the Jedi doing on Timora?" he asks. 

A pause. "Official business." 

Of course he wouldn't tell. Ben suppresses a snort and says, "The Knights then." 

Another beat of silence, and he starts to wonder if he's overstepped. And then- "The King and his advisors requested assistance from the Jedi. They are concerned that the Knights may be doing more for their people than they are. And that the people think so too." 

"What do you think?" He asks. 

"What?" Qui-Gon turns to face him. Ben turns slightly, letting this man, from a life he left long ago, look at what little of him he can see. 

"Do you think the Knights have done more for the Timoran people than their actual government has." 

There's a reason for this, and it's not necessarily going looking for compliments. If, by some weird turn of events, Qui-Gon discovers the Knights, or catches them in the act of a crime, Ben would like to have some semblance of an idea of whose side he'd take. 

It's a test of trust, he realizes. Can he still trust this man? 

"I think they know what they're doing." And there it is- typical Qui-Gon. Cryptic. "I think they know that people know about them. They know what people think of them."

He can still trust Master Jinn. At least a little. 

"I think so too," Ben tilts his face up, looking at the stars that are almost invisible, outshone by the bright lights of the city. They sit in silence for a moment before Ben says- "You can't have come alone, Master Jedi." 

"I didn't. My apprentice is at the palace." 

The urge to say his name, to say _oh, A_ _nakin Skywalker?_ is so strong, Ben has to bite his tongue to hold it back. To say it would be to give him and the rest of the Knights away. 

He settles, instead, for, "And how old is your apprentice?"

"He is almost eleven." Qui-Gon answers. 

Ben looks over. "Oh, yes," he finds himself whispering. Panic shoots through him as he hears himself. How would he, a shadowy stranger on Timora, know anything about a Jedi and his apprentice? (He knows everything, but that's not the point.) Luckily, he's always been quick. "That's around the time Jedi become apprentices, isn't it?" 

"Usually," he says. 

"I don't believe the Jedi would send you and a _child_ to rein in the Knights," Ben says, because he's right and he knows it. 

"Who says we're reining them in?" Qui-Gon looks over, a glint in his eyes. Ben has to look away. It's his former master's look of _I'm going to fix this, but not in the way you think I will._

"They're dangerous." he says, knowing how it sounds. But he's right- he and the rest of the Knights _are_ dangerous. They've killed, all of them, have before, will again. Ben had never taken a life as a Jedi Padawan. He'd been averse to it in every way possible- _only kill if you absolutely have to._ But Ben is no Jedi any longer. He's killed bad men without a second thought. He takes comfort in the fact that he doesn't enjoy it, in that he only kills the ones who deserve to die. But he is closer to indifference now than he ever was with Qui-Gon. 

"Are they?" the Jedi asks. 

Ben looks over and smirks. "I think they know what they're doing," he echoes Qui-Gon's answer from before. 

"I think so too," Qui-Gon catches on quickly. 

They sit in silence for a moment before Ben hears a soft, almost silent _thump_ before them. Qui-Gon hears it too, from how he looks up. No one else would have been able to hear it- but they can. 

It's Jay- Ben can't see his face yet, but he knows it's him from the way he walks. He stands. 

"You didn't say you'd have company, B," Jay comments, stopping in front of them and letting the faint light from the street illuminate his face. 

"I didn't know I'd have it," Ben replies calmly. He turns to Qui-Gon. "My apologies, Master Jedi. This is my cue to go." 

"Of course. Good night-" and Qui-Gon waits for a name. Ben can barely hold back a laugh. He motions to Jay and they dissipate back into the shadows, leaving the Jedi Master on his stone bench in the dark gardens. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love chapters like these aaaaaaaa
> 
> also ben's whole personality change after he leaves the jedi? i love those kinds of development/character arcs. love them. 
> 
> if you enjoyed, leave a comment or kudos! they mean the world to me and motivate me to continue writing!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qui-Gon has a vision as he and Anakin grow more convinced that the Knights have nothing to do with the anarchist groups the King and his advisors keep linking them to. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Jay and Ben use their words, and Angel reminds them all of a very real threat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm legit so excited for the end of this. it's gonna be amazing. i- yeah. it'll be sad, but it'll end really well! promise! also- happy NEW YEAR YALL 
> 
> no tws for this chapter, y'all are all good there. 
> 
> today we're in qui-gon's pov, then ben's, then anakin's at the end.

Qui-Gon walks back to the palace by himself, the sounds from the city around him seeming like white noise in his ears. He was going to the gardens to try to work out the questions he already has, not adopt new ones. Yet- that was what had ended up happening. 

There had been a man already in the gardens. He had pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, but it did nothing to hide the fluffy brown hair falling over his forehead. And the cloth covering his nose and mouth- _that_ had done nothing to hide his eyes. Even in the muted orange light of the street, they were a piercing blue that looked at him with a calculating gaze he had seen before, on the likes of Jedi Masters and battle-worn soldiers. 

And then the second one, the man who had done nothing to conceal his identity. His stride had been confident, assured, his voice low and languid. And he had called the first man _B._ They had both seemed eerily familiar, for reasons Qui-Gon can't fathom. He searches his memories for where he's seen them before, but there's nothing. Except for one thing. 

The mysterious message he'd received a while ago- _protect your apprentice and mind your prophecies_ \- and it had been signed with a B. Coincidence? Maybe. But probably not. After that, Qui-Gon had scoured the Jedi prophecies for anything that might be relevant, only to come up empty. 

His thoughts stray from there, and stray, until they reach Obi-Wan, mostly because Qui-Gon passes a market on the way back to the palace that sells a fruit he'd introduced Obi-Wan to on a mission once. Something tells him Obi-Wan would like Timora.

In any case, the bond between them has fallen silent in the past days. When they had last spoken, Obi-Wan let his former master know he was alive, but the whole time he'd been emotional and, Qui-Gon felt, deeply hurt. And he hadn't said anything about why, or where he's been, or what he's doing now. And that makes Qui-Gon's stomach twist with worry. And for whatever reason, the tenacious look in B's eyes tonight reminds Qui-Gon of the man he loves. 

But now isn't the time for sentiment or irrelevant questions. B and this other man have distracted him for long enough. Qui-Gon needs to focus on why the Jedi Council would send him, and a boy of only eleven, to a planet that needs more expertise. This is a mission he would have been assigned when Obi-Wan was still his Padawan. But Anakin is woefully inexperienced with negotiation, and this could go so badly in so many ways- ways for which the boy is _also_ unprepared. 

Qui-Gon has options. He _could_ contact the Council, but part of him wants to see what they can do beforehand. How much he can learn about the Knights and the threat they might pose to Timora. Although he doesn't think _they_ are the threat Timora is facing. 

He's read the mission reports. Timora is also looking at a few anarchist groups. They've been mostly passive for the past century or two, but now they're coalescing, bonding together. There's strength in numbers, and there's _confidence_ in it too.

The guards silently let him back into the palace. The halls are dark and empty, and when he gets back to his quarters, he sees that Anakin is still asleep. He slips into his room, undresses quickly, and lies on the bed, hoping for some sleep tonight. 

Sleep comes, but it's interrupted by a disturbing vision. Compared to the others Qui-Gon has had over the years, this is relatively short. But the message is clear. 

It starts with B and how Qui-Gon had seen him first, his back to him in the gardens, then the other man and his achingly familiar face. Two more shadowy figures, features indistinct, stand just behind him. One ignites two glowing red blades. And B's softly accented voice murmurs in his ear-

" _Some people just want to be forgotten-_ " 

* * *

"So... what was that?" Jay asks on the way back to the ship. 

"I was trying to get information," Ben says tersely. Seeing Qui-Gon in person has thrown him off balance. He feels angry and cold, reminded once more of how he got here- pushed aside by a master who never wanted him for a boy believed to be the Chosen One. 

_And on some level,_ Ben thinks, _I understand why he did it._

"'Get' information or 'give' it?" Jay's voice is wry, but Ben knows what he's trying to get at. 

"I had my mask on. I didn't give anything away." 

"That's not the part I'm worried about," the other man says. "He's a Jedi, and your bond-mate besides. He's going to notice." 

"Exactly," Ben says, "He's a Jedi. He won't let personal matters get in the way of the mission." 

"Look, from what you've told me about Qui-Gon Jinn, he would _absolutely_ let personal matters get in the way if they were important enough."

"Not if it's me." 

Jay throws up his hands. "Of course he'd do it if it's you, B! What about all the times he came back for you when you got yourself captured on missions? What about what you said about him trying to use the bond to contact you after what happened on Onderon?" 

Ben shakes his head. "Jay, listen. I have to stop thinking about it, okay? It's been two years. I've longed for him more than I have any right to. And now I'm going to do what I really should have done from the beginning, and try my best to _forget_."

Jay raises his hands in mock surrender. "Okay. I get that. You know I get it." 

Ben sighs. "I do." he pauses and says, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have blown up at you like that." 

"It's fine," the other man reassures him. "I was a jerk for the first couple of years. Cole can tell you all about that." 

He laughs. "I'm sure. Speaking of Cole-" 

Jay shoots him a look that clearly says _I don't want to talk about it._ But Ben pushes forward anyway, knowing somebody has to talk some sense into both of them. 

"You want to explain what that was, in the bar earlier?" 

Jay scrunches up his face. "I just liked the song, is all." 

Ben looks at him out of the corner of his eye. "Sure." 

"What?" he throws his hands up again. "What was I supposed to say?" 

Ben sighs. "You were _ideally_ supposed to confess your feelings for Cole and get over yourself, but I don't see that happening any time soon. Sadly." 

Jay's shoulders slump. "It's that obvious?" 

"No, actually," he says, "But I've known you for most of my life and lived with you for the past two years. So I know _you_ pretty well." 

"It's just that..." he sighs. "We've been friends forever. I've seen too many friendships end when one person catches feelings. I just don't want that to happen to us, y'know?" 

"Yeah," Ben nods. "But I don't think it will. If anything, I think Cole feels the same way." 

Jay's head shoots up. "Bullshit." 

Ben grins. "Nope." 

His friend looks a little happier by the time they get to the ship, but Ben knows he's not going to say anything. Not yet, at any rate. But it's alright. At least he knows he's got a chance. 

Cole and Angel are playing cards at the table in the lounge. The Tusk Cat is lying at Cole's feet and blinks lazily at Ben and Jay when they walk in. 

"Having fun without us, huh?" Jay says, his loud and boisterous mood returning. 

"Absolutely," Angel deadpans. "And I'm _winning_. Seriously, Cole, how are you so bad at this?" 

Cole presses his cards to his chest and gasps as if he's offended. "Angel! That's rude." 

Ben looks over at Jay and sees the warm look in his eyes, and how Cole looks over at him, blushes, and looks away. He shakes his head and smiles a little. They're both idiots. 

"So," Angel says, placing down her cards and showing that she's _crushed_ Cole at whatever game they're playing, "What's the plan? Do we have any more jobs?" 

"Nothing big," Jay says, taking off his bandana. "Although I did see someone asking for us to help with a slave revolt." 

"Sounds good," Angel nods. 

"Sure," Ben agrees. "Cole?" 

"Yes," the other man says. 

"Okay," Jay claps his hands. "Then we should do it tomorrow. It's been a wild night." He glances over at Ben. Ben nods. "I should note that we saw one of the Jedi in the gardens about fifteen minutes ago." 

"What?" Angel says, her sharp eyes looking from Jay to Ben, then back again. "Which one, or don't you know?" 

"Jinn," Ben says shortly. 

"Oh," she mumbles. 

"Yeah," Jay says. "Luckily, you had your mask on, and you didn't say anything that'd give us away." 

"Nope," Ben replies, leaning against the wall. "But he saw _you,_ Jay." 

Cole's eyes widen. "You didn't-" 

"Still had it up here," he takes out his bandana and wraps it around his head like how Jay wears his. 

"Jay, what the hell-" Angel starts. 

At the same time, Cole mutters, "Are you kidding me." 

Jay just shrugs. "It's not as if we're going to see him again, is it? And I didn't know he was there, so it's not even technically my fault." 

Cole sighs. "You should have had it on the whole time, Jay." 

"Whatever," he mutters. 

"Actually," Angel pipes up. She's scrolling through her datapad, and her lips turned down in a slight frown. "We might be seeing the Jedi again. And soon." 

"What? Why?" Jay asks. 

"Because I can think of two reasons why they might be on Timora, and one of them definitely has to do with us." 

"What's the other one?" Ben asks. 

"This," she says, turning the datapad around. It shows an article about a couple of anarchist groups on Timora. According to said article, there's been talk of them joining forces. 

"We've seen what these people can do on their own, in their small groups," Angel explains. They have- a few months ago, they had had to stop a bunch of rioters from burning down a police station. "If they're banding together, we're in trouble. The whole planet is in trouble." 

Jay shrugs. "Trouble for the Jedi and the King, sure." 

Cole shoots him a look. "What do you mean?" 

Ben pushes himself off the wall. "How many corrupt politicians have we had to get rid of in the past few months? Clearly, the government can't control its people, and if the anarchists are resonating more with the people than their King, something's wrong." 

"Exactly," Jay says. "I mean, think about it. We're four people, and we're the best law enforcement this planet has. It's not about being cocky. It's the truth." 

"So why _not_ burn the palace to the ground," Angel says quietly. 

"See? Now you're catching on," he claps his hands. 

"Are you saying we should help them?" Cole asks. 

"Maybe. I'm saying we should stand by and let it happen," Jay says with a smirk. 

"Their ideas _are_ popular with most of the people in the city," Ben adds. 

"Shit, most of the people on this _planet_ ," Jay mumbles. 

"So we're going to let anarchists overthrow the government," Cole says.

"Sounds like it," Angel nods. 

Ben runs a hand through his hair. "Well, the anarchists aren't going to burn the city down tonight. We should get to bed." 

"Yeah," Cole stands up and pets the cat, waking him up. He yawns and follows the man into his quarters. The door shuts softly behind them. Angel is quick to leave as well, tucking her datapad into her pocket. Jay looks over at Ben. 

"Why do I have a good feeling about this?" 

Ben just smirks and goes to bed. 

* * *

Anakin wakes up in the early morning. The sun isn't even up yet, and the chronal says it's 1500 hours. He thinks about the day before and wonders (not for the first time) why the King and his advisors don't like the people who free slaves here. On some level, Anakin knows why- people like money. He saw it on Tatooine, and he's starting to think that no matter where you go, money still rules everything. 

From his window, he can see gardens, surrounded by a tall metal fence. It's pretty, and Anakin is still trying to get used to green plants. After all, all there was on Tatooine was sand. So he slides out of bed, changes into his usual Padawan robes, and makes the door open with the Force. 

Nobody's up yet, in the palace. The halls are dark and quiet, so Anakin walks as quietly as he can. He finds the main doors, remembering his tour of the place from yesterday. Using the Force once more, he causes the doors to swing open. 

There are lights on in buildings all around him- the palace might be asleep, but the city is _not_. He can hear shouts from bars and sees people already roaming the streets. Soon enough, he gets to the gardens. 

The gate is locked. Anakin shakes it, hoping the lock isn't too strong, but no luck. He startles hard when he hears a low, wicked laugh from behind him. When he whirls around, he sees three men in dirty clothing. All of them are holding knives. 

"Well, well, well," the tallest one rumbles, "A little Jedi." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the first chapter of the new year and i like it a lot! here's hoping 2021 treats us better than 2020 did. 
> 
> leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel and Ben take a walk, only to end up having to save a wayward Jedi Padawan (*cough* Anakin *cough*) from street thugs instead of relaxing. But instead of going back to the palace like he's supposed to, Anakin recognizes Angel and insists on going with them and seeing the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anakin, anakin, anakin. you really are a catalyst in this fic, huh? 
> 
> guys, the fact that this is almost over has me shook, seriously. this is the longest thing i've ever written, and when it's over i'll probably be revising a good amount of it. but it's wild that there's not much plot between now and The End. 0.0 
> 
> anyway, today we're in angel's pov, then ben's! *rubs hands together* pLoT happens in this one, so HANG ON TO YOUR HATS.

"Ben. Ben, dude, you awake?" 

I'm up at an ungodly hour once again. We all have nightmares, sure, but mine are... interesting, mostly because they're not always _mine._ Sometimes they're Anakin's, and I can tell from familiar faces and names, but sometimes they're not. Sometimes they're of a man with wavy white hair with a red lightsaber playing the galaxy like a cheap, out of tune ukulele. Those last ones aren't even that scary. They just put me on edge, because I _know_ I've seen that face before, I just can't place it, which is irritating. It's those types of dreams that I've been having more and more recently, and it's one of those that just woke me up. So I'm rousing the only other person on the ship who has weird, unexplainable dreams, Ben. 

Ben and I are friends- we all are. But Ben and I are closer to the Jedi than Cole and Jay are- Jay left by choice, Cole went by force. I don't think Cole misses it. Ben oscillates between Jedi and vigilante, although if you ask he'll tell you he wants nothing to do with them. That's not entirely true. According to Jay, Ben wanted to be the best Jedi he could possibly be, and he was doing well at it. He always says he doesn't regret joining us, and to an extent I think that's true, but I think he dreamed of more in his life than a run-down ship and the pressure of being a vigilante always on his shoulders. This is why he talks less now. 

Sometimes I wonder what else is out there. I wonder how kids are raised outside of the Jedi. I wonder if what we've done with ourselves is normal. And then I remember that it doesn't even matter that much, because it's this or be a Jedi or slum away on some dirty Outer Rim planet. And I want my existence to _mean_ something, you know? Killing bad guys on Timora has good consequences, tangible good consequences. So this is what I'm going to do. 

Ben wakes up, hair a right mess. He blinks up at me, then says- 

"Nightmare?" 

I shrug. "Not too bad. I just want to get some air." 

The best part is that Ben doesn't even argue, just sits up and swings his legs around out of the bed. I leave the room to go put my curly hair back with the butterfly barrettes I stole from some girl a few months back. I examine myself in the mirror- black sweatshirt, ripped jeans, and ratty sneakers. The only pop of color in the whole outfit is the clips, glittery and bright shades of green, pink, purple and yellow. _Not bad_ , I judge. 

When Ben's ready, he knocks softly on my door. He's wearing a slightly oversized black leather jacket over a black shirt with some sort of obscure logo on it, jeans like mine, and his boots. He's got his bandanna pulled up over his nose and mouth, and I fish mine out of my back pocket and put it on in the same way. 

We leave the _Negotiator_ and walk the city streets. I notice that we're heading toward the gardens, the same one from last night. I can't stop looking around, though (keeping it inconspicuous, of course- I'm no idiot). I'm not sure what I'm looking for, but something in the air feels different today. 

As we reach the garden, I hear the growl of a street thug. "Well, well, well. A little Jedi." Ben and I exchange a quick look. _Anakin._ And sure enough, there he is, at the gates of the garden, surrounded by three men. 

Ben lets me take the lead, which I'm thankful for as we walk up to the group. 

"Hey, paws off the kid," I call. 

The lead one turns around, baring yellow, crooked teeth. "Ooh, what do we have here, boys? Don't you think it's a little early for pretty girls to be out alone?" 

_Alone_ means Ben's hiding, waiting to back me up if I need it. I just reply with, "Don't you think it's a little early to be kidnappin' Jedi apprentices? Come on, piss off. Go sober up and kiss your wives." 

"Better close your mouth, sweetie, or someone's gonna do it _for_ ya," he snarls. 

I roll my eyes. "Try me, deadbeat." 

The man growls and throws the slowest, weakest punch I have ever seen in my Force-given life. I grab his wrist and yank him closer, planting my foot into his stomach. He stumbles back, and I see Ben grab him when he careens past his buddies. Anakin watches as he clamps a hand over his nose and mouth and keeps it there until the man goes limp in his arms. He drops him to the ground. The second one calls me a bitch and charges me, but I hold him still and slam my head into his. He goes to the pavement. The last guy just takes off running. 

"You okay?" I turn and ask Anakin, tugging my bandanna down so he can see it's me. He beams widely and I find myself returning it. 

"Angel!" Anakin rushes over to hug me. I hug back and ruffle his sandy blonde hair. 

"Ani, it's good to see you!" I say. "Although I have to ask- what was that? Where's your master?" 

Anakin shrugs, looking a little bit sorry, at least. "I wanted to look at the plants," he says. "There weren't many plants on-" but he stops and doesn't say anything else. I nod, I know what he's talking about. 

"At-" I check the time. "Four in the morning?" 

"I couldn't go back to sleep," he replies. 

"We should get him back to the palace," Ben interrupts. "The Jedi will turn the city upside down to find him once they know he's missing." 

Anakin turns to look at him. "Who're you?" he asks. 

"That's Ben," I answer. 

" _That's_ Ben?" he says, astonished. 

"Yeah. Ben, take off the mask, would ya? You're gonna scare him." 

"I'm not scared of _anything_ ," Anakin says. Always full of courage. 

"Yeah, yeah, okay," I laugh. Ben hesitates, but when I nod he undoes the bandanna, tying it around his head so his hair flops over it. When he sees him, Anakin's eyes go wide as Ben shoots me the _I told you so_ look. 

"You're- you're _him_!" Anakin exclaims. 

"Who?" Ben asks, voice dry as the sands of Tatooine. I almost snort, except for the fact that it's not funny and I bet Ben's freaking out on the inside. 

" _Him_!" he says again. " _Obi-Wan Kenobi._ Master Qui-Gon's apprentice. You have to be him." 

I don't say a word, looking from him to Ben. Ben just shrugs, and there's no emotion on his face that would give him away. He's gotten better at it. If we had seen Anakin a year ago like this, he'd be spluttering and losing it. 

"Nope," he says, popping the _p_. "Me and this _Obi-Wan_ must have the same last name or somethin', but I'm not him." 

"Long-lost cousins," I add helpfully. Anakin looks deeply suspicious, glancing at me, as if asking for verification. I nod, trying to look as sincere as possible.

"I met him once," Anakin says, accepting our lie. "Master Qui-Gon said he died on Naboo. He was fighting a Sith lord." 

"Didn't know Sith even existed anymore," Ben says smoothly, and I nudge Anakin a little to get him to start walking. 

"We should get you to the palace," I say, and Ben rolls his eyes at me over Ani's head. 

"No, wait!" he says, whirling and grabbing my arm. "I wanna see Jay. And Cole. And the ship! And the cat, and-" I shoot a look at Ben as he talks, and he just gives me a shrug and generally looks disinterested. 

"Okay, okay," I say, cutting Anakin off. "You're going back to the palace at some point today, though, Ani. That's the deal." 

"Fine," he sighs. 

To cheer him up and get him talking, I say, "You're going to have to tell me what the palace is like. You're the only one out of us that's been inside." And sure enough, he brightens up and starts chattering away. 

* * *

To say that Ben's a little shaken would be an understatement. 

He's adding to the conversation, answering Anakin's questions and poking fun at Angel whenever the opportunity presents itself. He even offers to carry the boy on his shoulders- which is what's happening now. Thank the Force the kid's light for his age. He's looking around, at the city, which he probably hasn't gotten to see prior to this. And he hasn't brought up Obi-Wan Kenobi since Ben and Angel deflected his original (accurate) statement, which is a relief. And he's asked to see the city, which is what they're doing now. For an hour, maybe less, Ben forgets what he and Anakin are to each other, what they have in common. 

_It's not his fault,_ he reminds himself during a lull in conversation. _Qui-Gon's decision wasn't endorsed by him. He had no hand in making it._ It isn't much of a consolation per _se_ , but it does bring him back down to earth a little, as it does whenever he thinks about it. 

He's jolted out of his thoughts by Anakin tapping the back of his neck and asking a question. 

"One more time," he says, "I'm getting old." 

Anakin snorts and taps his neck again. "What's that?" 

Oh. _Oh._ The boy's tapping at the black ink just above the nape of Ben's neck. It had been Jay's idea, a year ago, to get them. The only member of the crew who doesn't have the tattoo is Angel- too young still. The only thing that their tattoos have in common is the pair of angel wings inside a circle that are the center of each. Jay's wings are normal, except for the way the feathers melt into a black puddle three-fourths of the way down. Cole's are the wings, but the outer feathers are alight with black fire. And Ben's? 

His are a pair of angel wings, with feathers missing, or twisted at odd angles. His wings are broken. 

"Sith hells," Angel hisses all of a sudden, and before Ben can answer, she's grabbing Ben's arm and yanking he and Anakin into an nearby alleyway. Ben uses the Force to make sure Anakin doesn't fall. 

"What?" he whispers as he hears Anakin bite back a confused noise. 

"Palace guards," Angel says. "We gotta get you back, Ani." Ben nods, lifting the boy off his shoulders. 

"Can you run?" he asks. 

"Duh," Anakin says, hiding his fear behind arrogance. Ben shoves back the instinct to reprimand him for it. It's not his place. 

"Then on my count, _run,_ " Angel tells him. "Stay with us." The boy nods, and when Angel takes off, he does too. The three of them shoot down empty alleyways and skid past drunks still on the streets. There's a shout from one of said drunks, but he's distracted in a moment and they're all clear. 

There are no guards at the palace doors- they must _really_ be understaffed to just leave like this. Ben uses the Force once more, this time to open the doors just enough for them to slip in. They stay away from people, creeping back up the hallways and staircases until they reach Qui-Gon's quarters that Anakin's helpfully pointed out. Angel hisses something at Anakin, probably something about _don't tell anyone anything_ as Ben bangs twice on the door roughly, breath coming in short pants. 

The door swings open quickly, and it's only _then_ that Ben realizes- he and Angel never put their bandannas back up. But it's too late now- there he is. Qui-Gon Jinn. After two years. And yeah, Ben just saw him, but it's also been _two years_ , and the breath is punched out of him just like it was last night. He's dressed in his typical attire, minus the dark brown outer robe, and his thick brown hair is unkempt and loose. 

"Um, are you the Jedi?" Angel asks, and Ben thanks the stars that she speaks just then, because he doesn't think he can even form sentences. "We, uh. We found your apprentice." 

"Inside, Anakin," Qui-Gon says, not even looking at the child. His eyes are firmly fixed on Ben, who cannot help but stare back. He vaguely registers Anakin hugging Angel, and snaps out of it long enough to whisper _be careful_ in Anakin's ear when he hugs him. The boy disappears into his quarters. 

"Thank you," the Jedi says. 

"You're welcome," Ben dips his head, voice coming out rougher than he'd intended. Angel looks over at him, but whatever she's looking for? She must not find it, because her attention shifts back to Qui-Gon. 

"He is... wayward," Qui-Gon says, a wry smile tugging at his lips. Ben's heart stutters and he curses himself silently for it. _Get it together, Kenobi._

"That he is," Angel smirks. 

Ben hears footsteps, and nudges Angel. "We should go," he mutters, finally tearing his eyes away from Qui-Gon. "Guards."

"Right," she says, and sweeps into the low bow Ben taught her (usually for dealing with Hutts). Ben quickly follows, and is the first to rise, the first to start backing away. Angel is not far behind. 

And with one last glance at his former master, Ben Kenobi disappears down a dark flight of steps. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still can't believe this many people actually read this. after so long. it's been what, going on three months? well, it'll be over soon and it'll all make sense (hopefully) in the end! i love this chapter tbh 0.0 ESPECIALLY because of the tattoos that i put in on a complete whim. i love the idea, and definitely the idea of ben having a bunch. maybe he will!

**Author's Note:**

> alright! i'm *invested* in this fic now, so here's the google doc i'm using to plan out characters and stuff. also includes the handy dandy spotify playlist i made for the story. the first four songs are the themes for each of the Negotiator's crew, Jay, Cole, Angel and Ben respectively, in that order. 
> 
> https://docs.google.com/document/d/1F0uAz-43Z9HrLNZLYIPOs_LTXMJO7blT7I3mQgwwyCE/edit?usp=sharing 
> 
> and ummm yeah! it's gay pirates in space. i can't stop saying that. it sounds so epic. it's the shit. 
> 
> also, no, it couldn't be me projecting onto Jay as the character that i'd be. i'm having too much fun with this. 
> 
> pretty please leave a comment or kudos if you like this so far! those give me ~ life ~


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